Gods and Monsters
by HalcyonSeasons
Summary: What if Bella drowned to death when she went cliff-jumping? What if her ghost started haunting Jacob? And what if Bella just happened to not be the Bella that everyone thought they knew? Jacob - and everybody else - wants answers. But are the right questions being asked? Contains angst, a sense of supernatural, and a dash of mystery.
1. Prologue & Chapter One

_**Synopsis: **What if Bella had drowned after jumping off the cliff in New Moon? And what if her ghost came back to haunt Jacob? But what if - WHAT IF - Bella wasn't exactly the person Jacob, Charlie, Edward, and everyone else knew? Centering around the suicide of Bella Swan, secrets are unraveled, limits are tested, and one ghost roams around the place of her death. Will things ever be the same way again? Short story; rated T; angsty, a bit supernatural, and a little mysterious. Jacob/Bella, but told in Jacob's perspective. Edward, Leah, and others also get involved._

* * *

_**Gods and Monsters**_

* * *

**Prologue**

There were three things that were positive about Bella Swan. Or how she had been, really.

First, she had loved everything. She had loved the sun, the moon, the stars. She had loved Phoenix, Forks, and La Push. She had loved to cook and to read and to help others. She had loved school and the people in it, too, when she'd attended, as far as I was concerned. She had been a loving person.

Second, she had also loved nothing. Nothing at all. She hadn't loved Edward, or her father, or me. She hadn't loved anybody enough to at least convince anyone that she had been perfectly fine. This was why she was dead, after all. She hadn't loved school enough to stay for more than half the week before spring break. Those were her last days of school. Maybe she had been okay in her own head. Not to anyone else, though. Not even to me, and I had tried my damned hardest to help her. Maybe my hardest wasn't hard enough. How could that even be? She had also been an unloving person, if that was the word. Selfish, too.

And third, I couldn't shake her from my mind. At least, not for a little while. Something made me absolutely positive that I wouldn't forget her, though. Bella's ghost was haunting me—literally—and I couldn't shake that. Ever.

* * *

**Chapter One**

Her story was simple, actually. Simple enough. At least, in the beginning. Then again, no death of a teenager is really that simple. Especially a suicide.

I'd caught the scent of the red-headed leech near the cliffs that day. It was so rainy. Rainier than the average spring here in La Push. I was basically drowning just by standing here. It was raining an ocean. But that wouldn't stop me. I had to get the bloodsucker. I _had_ to.

The vampire jumped into the water, though. _What for? _I asked myself. As I stood at the top of that cliff—in wolf form—I watched her go. Dammit. If I jumped now I wouldn't be able to catch her. Sam would be pissed but why the fuck should he—

And that was when I caught Bella's scent. Had I been ignoring it? I turned to the direction of the smell and there I saw an item about five feet away from me. There was a jacket. A dark blue, cotton jacket.

I'd seen that jacket on Bella only a hundred times.

In the dead silence—besides the sound of the heavy rain—everything fell into place.

Bella and I were supposed to go cliff-diving tomorrow. I'd told her this yesterday. We were not supposed to go today. Either she hadn't paid attention to what I'd said, or this was for a different reason.

Bella hadn't waited for me.

And she'd jumped off the cliff.

I phased back to my human form as quickly as could and jumped off the cliff without hesitation. Only too late, I sliced into the cold water.

I swam as deep down as I could. _Gotta find her, gotta find her, gotta find her._

And, oh, I found her. She was unconscious. She was drowning.

_Oh shit_, I thought frantically.

With as much of my power, I grabbed Bella and swam her to the shore. I was exhausted once we were there, but I had made it. She hadn't, though.

I put my little knowledge of CPR to the test—the test of her life _and_ mine—and tried to revive Bella. I pushed on her chest, put my breath into her mouth, anything. Just anything to bring her back to consciousness. Nothing was working.

"Come on!" I grunted. "Please, Bella."

I doubted she could hear me, though.

I kept doing the same things over and over. Nothing happened. Bella, pale and cold, just continued to lie on the sand, her eyes closed. She looked like a little porcelain doll, fragile and motionless.

My best friend was dead, and there was no going back.

* * *

I didn't break the news to Charlie. I didn't break the news to anybody. I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. I couldn't think.

I stayed on First Beach for a long time that day. The next morning, too.

Dawn was breaking when Sam found me, sitting on the beach in that exact spot where I'd sat with Bella. She wasn't Bella the friend anymore. She was Bella the corpse. I couldn't even believe it myself.

Sam approached me and at first, I didn't notice him. Then he kicked me in the leg. I didn't even look up at him. Why should I? He wasn't Bella. He wasn't anyone worth looking at face-to-face.

"Hey, get your ass home," he said softly. Well, softly for him, which wasn't exactly soft.

"I'm not going to patrol today," I murmured.

"You don't have to," he replied. "Your dad's worried sick, though. Charlie, too."

"Like Charlie actually gives a shit about me," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You were everything to Bella," Sam assured me.

"Right. And nothing, too."

"If you say so. Get home, though. We need you, Jake."

_But I need Bella._

* * *

I eventually came home. It was actually sunny today. How ironic was that? Maybe this was all just God kicking me down and spitting on me. I hadn't done anything bad recently. Neither had Bella. And it wasn't her "time to go" or whatever crap people spout out to the friends of dead people. She'd had so much going for her. _We'd_ had so much going for _us._

Jeez, it was like I had imprinted on her. And that totally wasn't case. I still had my mind. I was still my own person. Sam was just being an asshole earlier because he'd thought that I hadn't lost much.

_Oh, Bella's nothing_, he'd probably thought. He was a dick like that. _It's not like you IMPRINTED on her. Get over it._

Well, I would not get over it.

I walked home, and I wanted to see Bella's truck there again. I wanted to see her walk out of it, take one look at me, and smile. I wanted to see her smile like nothing had happened. Like her vampire boyfriend hadn't messed her up for months.

And maybe Bella being messed up was what had caused her to fall off the cliff.

Or maybe I hadn't tried that hard… But hadn't I? Hadn't I promised to always be there? Hadn't I told her that I wasn't going to give up on her? Hadn't I assured her that she could count on me? I had promised so much to her. It was like imprinting without the cost of my own free will. It was like marriage without the vows and the rings. Or a kiss.

I should have told her I loved her. That could have made her stay here, with me. If she had killed herself because she felt unimportant, then this was my entire fault. It was.

I entered my house to find my dad, Billy, sitting in the living room in his wheelchair. The television wasn't on. He just stared out the window.

"Come in, son," he called to me.

I walked into the living room and plopped down on the couch. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry." My dad looked cold. Pale, too. I must be getting used to that look.

I sighed. "I know."

"Her funeral's being organized right now. We're trying to get it done as soon as possible. Okay?"

I nodded. I felt out of my own skin. I felt like I was cracking. The pressure was too much. It was weighing me down, suffocating me. It was killing me. And I would take this a thousand times—all day, every day—to have Bella back.

"I'm sorry," Billy said again. That was when he pulled me in for a hug.

I hadn't cried this hard since when my mother died, and that had been over five years ago. But I didn't like to think about that.

"I just want Bella back," I whimpered.

"I know, Jake. I know."

I let go of him and sat back. I could see my face in the reflection of the window. I looked weak. No wonder why all the guys in the pack called me a pussy half of the time.

"By the way," Billy said, "you have a visitor. He'll be here in five minutes."

_Now, why the fuck would I want a visitor right now?_

"Who is it?" I dared to ask.

"Edward Cullen. He wants to talk to you."

* * *

_**A/N: **And that has been chapter one. This fanfic kind of means a lot to me. I've never actually written a Jella fanfic longer than one chapter, and Jella is my favorite pairing. I got the idea in the middle of third period today as I read up on haunted places in the world, and I couldn't leave this alone. I love Jella and I love creepiness and I love angst. You feel me?_

_Review if you'd like._

_-MusicTwilightLove_


	2. Chapter Two

_**A/N: **This story's a hot commodity, ain't it? Haha. With two reviews, two favorites, and three followers, I feel super-lucky right now. I've been thinking a lot about this story lately, and I've decided to change the rating to M. You'll see why later, and as of now, it's already pretty vulgar. Don't read this to your children, y'all. Anyway, here I present chapter two of Gods and Monsters._

* * *

**Chapter Two**

I wasn't too fond of Edward Cullen, and I really didn't want to be. Not back then, not now, not in the future. Not ever. But within five minutes, like my father had said, the bloodsucker was here when I opened my front door.

"Take this to the borderline," I told him before he could even say anything first. "You know they'll find you."

"They already have," he said calmly. His black eyes seemed to be burning, though. They looked... tortured. "We have to go soon," he added.

"Let's go now."

* * *

Edward and I stood near the boundary line, in the forest. _Man_, he stank. It made my nose burn. But by the look of his face I couldn't have smelled that good to him, either.

"So it's your fault," I said bluntly. "You know this wouldn't have happened if you hadn't left her in the first place."

"If I hadn't left her, she would have died, anyway."

Wow. He really didn't give one shit about her. "At least I didn't give up on her," I mentioned.

"And whoever said that I did?"

I snickered bitterly. "You're full of it. _You_ broke up with her. _You_ made her depressed. And I was there to pick up the pieces, or try to."

Edward remained calm, and in a way, I envied him for it. I also hated him even more for it. He didn't care about Bella. Obviously. I'd known it from the very beginning. If he cared, he wouldn't be this… composed. And he certainly wouldn't have anticipated on her dying without him in the first place.

"I didn't make her kill herself, Jacob," he murmured.

"And why the hell do you say that?"

He paused for a second, and then asked, "Have you ever even tried to consider the possibility that she had issues already?"

Bella? _My_ Bella? Issues? Sure, she had been sarcastic and snarky and a little depressed around me, but I never noticed anything crazy. No cuts on her wrists, no pills being popped... She hadn't been dependent on anything but adrenaline and... well, me. Did I really know her as well as I thought I did?

But Edward was still blaming everyone but himself.

"You just can't take the blame," I muttered. "You just _have_ to be the victim."

"I can't read her mind," he said, louder now. "So whatever her reasons were, they were her reasons. I don't know what she was thinking. My sister couldn't even see her future. And she didn't care enough to bother to check. My whole family moved on."

"Don't _you_ care about Bella, though?" I demanded. "Because she really did care about you. You were the only damn thing that mattered to her." It hurt me to say this, but it was true. Bella truly had loved the leech. Was it the money? The idea of vampirism? The sex?

"No, it wasn't because of any of that," Edward replied to my thoughts. Fucking mind-reader. "And I… I did care about her. I loved her. I don't understand why she loved me back, though."

So many past tense words. They were driving me crazy.

"Why don't you know?" I questioned.

He shrugged.

"Well, either way she's gone," I told him, "and I think you're the one to blame."

"Did you know any of Bella's secrets?" he asked, just as blunt as I had been from the start. "Since you cared about her _so_ much, and still do?"

"Watch it, parasite."

"No need to, dog."

I sighed. "I know that you used her."

"Oh? And how?" he challenged.

"Do you know how she was when I first started talking to her again?" I asked. "Do you know just how fucked up she was? She was broken. Already in pieces and was still falling apart. Everyone told me what happened, at first. Nothing sounded right. They made it sound simple, but it wasn't. And then, later, she finally told me that you'd used her."

Edward was silent.

"She didn't ask for any of the shit you put her through," I went on. "You took and you gave. You took the things she wanted, like friends and family and a life outside of you, but you gave her all the problems in the world. If it weren't for you, she would still be here with me, and you would still be gone."

"So she did trust you," he whispered.

"All because she couldn't trust you. You never proved to her that she could."

He seemed to think on that for a little while. And I really, _really_ wanted to kill him. If I could just phase right now and tear him apart and—

"I know you want to kill me," he told me. "And you can do that later, but I need to find out what happened to Bella."

"Isn't it obvious?" I asked. "She killed herself by jumping off a cliff."

"No, I mean…" He sighed. "Jacob." Wow. I was addressed by my actual name. "I—no, _we_—have to find out what really happened. I know she has secrets—everyone does—but don't you think we should figure them out? This wasn't a simple thing. Maybe there's something we can do."

"Forget it. She's dead."

"Look," he said, his voice low and serious. "I love her. As much as you don't believe me and she didn't believe me, I do love her. And I know you do, too. I don't know her secrets—I was only hinted that she had them. But I do know that she loved you, and that she would have wanted us to figure things out."

_Okay, so you're acting like you really knew her when that obviously isn't the case. _"Excuse you," I said, "but your little _Scooby-Doo_ adventures should have nothing to do with me."

"Don't you want to find out what was wrong?"

My voice remained bitter. "Yes, but I don't need your help. Ask your family or something. They'll be _dying_ to help you out, since Bella was already a part of the fucking coven."

"I'm the only one that has come back to Forks."

"What, so you're alone?"

He nodded.

"Well," I said, my arms crossed, "you should probably go back with them as soon as possible. You're gonna get your ass kicked by staying here alone."

"And you think I'm unaware of that?"

"Look, I don't care. Hire a detective, sniff through her room even more than she told me you did. I really don't give one fuck. But _I'm_ going to find out what was wrong with Bella and _I'm_ gonna put an end to this."

"As will I."

I huffed. "Good luck, bloodsucker."

"Good luck to you, too, mutt."

He held out his hand, and I stared at the pale thing. "Well?" he asked.

"This isn't a deal," I said.

"Good luck, anyway."

I knew he wasn't going to budge. So I shook his hand firmly. "For Bella," I declared.

* * *

I went back home to find it fuller than how I'd left it. Wow. Great. Wonderful.

The entire pack was there. Charlie, too. Hell, even Sue Clearwater was there, and coincidentally, her husband Harry had had a heart attack last night (due to his own damn daughter), just hours after Bella died. Only he wasn't dead. Just hospitalized.

Sue sat next to Charlie on the couch, wringing her hands. Because if anything, she probably wanted to be at the hospital with her husband, not in the living room of a bunch of half-naked boys (plus Leah).

Everyone was dead silent when I walked in. The pack turned to me. Billy, Sue, and Charlie remained sullen.

"We've been waiting for you, Jake," Sam said.

"What for?" I asked, approaching everyone.

"Where were you?" Paul asked. "We were right about to come over."

"I was gone for five minutes," I responded. "Chill."

"You were holding us back," Jared added.

I rolled my eyes. "Well, what are we waiting for? You didn't have to wait for me. Let's go." Maybe phasing and hunting down the red-headed leech would take my mind off things.

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "We shouldn't have waited."

What an Alpha he was. Unbalanced moments like this made me want to take my rightful spot in the pack. If only I could.

We all filed out the front door, but as I followed behind, Charlie stopped me. "Hey, Jake," he said.

I turned to wear he sat in the living room. "Yeah?" I asked.

"Do you wanna speak at Bella's funeral?"

_Goddamn. _The way he said it made it sound like he was asking me if I wanted a burger. It was that easy. If only the poor guy's eyes could say the same.

I took a deep breath. As hard as it would be to attend, I did want to speak at Bella's funeral. Isn't that what best friends of the dead did?

I nodded. "Of course, Charlie."

"Thanks, Jake."

"No problem."

If I felt this horrible over what happened to Bella, then I could only pray for her father. I couldn't even imagine how he'd been holding up.

* * *

Knowing Sam and his selfish ways, he put me back to work. As if I could even focus.

Edward Cullen—Edward fucking Cullen, the douchebag that had torn Bella to shreds—wanted _me_ to help him uncover what was going on with Bella. How was that even possible? He was a bloodsucker. And there would be no way to find out what was going on with Bella, anyway.

Or was there?

But Edward decided to love her and care about her _after_ she died. That was too fucking selfish. I hoped he would find nothing. I hoped he would find nothing and go away for good. Bella hadn't needed him, and neither would I.

And another trait of Sam's selfishness had made me end up patrolling with Leah and Seth. Now, Seth wasn't that bad. He was new and optimistic as hell, which I really didn't need right now, but he wasn't nearly as bad as his sister.

Leah Clearwater was one to be reckoning with.

She had this fiery, dark pit where her soul should be. She didn't put up with anything. She _couldn't_ put up with anything. She thought she was funny, when she was really almost as crude as Paul, and nobody liked to deal with her. She'd even been this bitchy back before she phased. It wasn't like she didn't have a reason to—since Sam had dumped her for her own fucking cousin—but she still wasn't that pleasant. Not back then, not now. Probably not even ever.

And she was even worse these days.

How her dad had a heart attack sounded like some really scary shit for a non-wolf to be a part of. I would have up and died on the spot if I saw a family member explode into a huge-ass wolf with my own eyes. Apparently, Leah had gotten pissed at something Sue had said, and since she was new, she lost it and turned into a wolf right in their living room. Harry had gotten a fucking heart attack, and Seth turning into a wolf on the spot to try to stop his sister really hadn't helped.

As of the moment, Harry was going to make it. He was messed up but he was going to be alright. Charlie wouldn't have to lose his daughter _and_ his friend on the same day.

So of course Sam had stuck me with Leah. Nobody else wanted her, except Paul, but that was only for a challenge. If those two were together, things would explode, including the minds of everybody in the pack.

Oh, and yeah—our minds were shared. Connected. We could hear each other's thoughts. Maybe I was more like Edward than I'd thought.

_So you're sucking Cullen's dick now, huh?_ Leah thought smugly as we ran. If there was one good thing about being a wolf, it was the speed. I felt invincible.

_You wish_, I thought back.

_Oh, would I love that. Imagine your cum faces! I've seen porn before, you know. Paul thought he was cool for having it when we were eight._

I groaned. _Ugh, get the fuck out. You should have gone with Paul today._

_Ew, no, _she thought. _I wouldn't want to be the poor girl he fucks his anger out of._

_Does everything have to be so disgusting with you?_

_No, not everything, _she admitted. _It's just easier to get my minds off things by bouncing off everyone else's thoughts._

_Well, congratulations._

We were silent for a while, and I could tell that she felt bad.

_What did Cullen want, though? _Leah asked. _I'm curious._

_He wants me to help him find out more stuff about Bella._

_Why does it matter? _She questioned. _She's dead._

_Because… because we just want answers. I'm kind of desperate right now, Leah._

_You don't want to believe she's dead_, she echoed. It wasn't even a question. She knew.

_I don't,_ I agreed. _It's just hard to take in._

_I feel ya. Don't strain yourself, though. Because we're never gonna find this parasite if you do._

_Right, like you actually give a fuck about what I'M thinking._

_Hmm… You're right. Maybe I don't._

More silence.

_I don't get you, Jake,_ she started.

_What's not to get?_

_I'm trying to get you to open up. This is hard enough for me to open up as it is._

_Nobody ASKED you to try to help me. Nobody ASKED you to nearly kill your own dad, either. No one anticipates on all this shit, Leah._

She was silent.

For a while.

_Wow_, she thought, sounding genuinely hurt. _That really fucking hurts._

So I'd decided to be a jerk. I lost pretty much everything already. Losing Leah wouldn't save or end any lives. I could laugh at everything in the face and take shit gratefully. I had nobody to impress. Nobody to scold me for being an ass. Nobody to try to make me better. _At least you're now using your feelings,_ I thought.

_Shut the fuck up._

_Can't handle the truth?_

_You're such an ass, Jake._

_Back at ya, Leah. Only I have an excuse._

_You know what? I really hope you find something really ugly about your precious Bella. Maybe she was born a man. Maybe she was a hooker. Maybe she was a nasty drug addict._

_Ha. _I snorted. _Right._

_And maybe she killed herself because of you. I know I would._

And with that, Leah ran away.

* * *

_**A/N: **So, my lovelies, how was that? Review if you'd like. Feedback would really, REALLY help me throughout this story._ _And, I've made the decision to update this every Wednesday for now on. Expect another chapter on Wednesday the 14th. _

_Take care,_

_MTL._


	3. Chapter Three

_**A/N: **Hey, I'm back. And, uh, I kinda lied. I decided to update this today, the thirteenth, rather than the fourteenth, but it's probably the 14th of November for a lot of you, anyway. Happy early birthday. (Lol though mine is this Friday and I'm UBER-EXCITED.) This chapter was a little strange to write in the beginning (listened to "Bel Air" by Lana Del Rey COUNTLESS times), but I enjoyed writing it. Have fun. Now I present chapter three of Gods and Monsters._

* * *

**Chapter Three**_  
_

_I am sweating._

_I am sweating hard, yet I haven't done a damn thing. I'm supposed to be asleep. Wait, I already am._

_I'm dreaming, too. Of course, I am. You can't dream without being asleep._

_I open my eyes, and sit up. I'm in a bed in the middle of nowhere. It's foggy. Almost too foggy._

_I look around. Nothing. I stand and do a three-sixty turn. Nothing but fog is all I can see. I groan and turn around, trying to get back to sleep, but there's Bella sitting on the bed._

_Bella._

_Bella?_

_Bella!_

_I'm obviously dreaming. If only I could have her back._

_Bella sits on my bed, looking like heaven. Absolute heaven with a crown of red and white roses atop her head of brown, wavy hair. She's a goddess. Divinity in just one person. In just one soul. I've read somewhere that dead peoples' ghosts are usually wearing the clothes that they died in, though. This doesn't make sense._

_But this isn't real._

_I am speechless. I can't even think. Bella Swan, the girl that I love more than anything in the entire world. I fell for her, alright. I fell hard. And I'm still falling._

_Bella isn't pissed. She isn't happy, either. She looks up at me with a look of… sadness. Anguish. She's not crying, though. Can ghosts even cry? _

_I lean closer to her. No, that doesn't even come close to describing it. I fall to my knees for her. Gave myself up even more in just that second. I look at her face-to-face and nearly die. Looks can kill in dreams._

_She's beautiful. (Why wouldn't she be? She's Bella.) Even more beautiful than before. I missed her pale skin that smells so heavenly. She smells like a peculiar, nice mixture of lavender and honey. The only difference between her now and her back then is that she isn't blushing. Not a sign of the blood that blossomed in her cheeks only so nicely, when she got embarrassed. It's like she's a vampire now, but she's not. She's what I just addressed her as: a goddess._

"_I love you," I whisper. Finally. I should have told her this way earlier._

_That's when she lifts her hand and puts it on my face softly. Surprisingly, she's warm for once. I don't even get it, but I'm going with it. She trails her fingers down to my jaw._

"_I've been waiting to meet you," is what she whispers to me._

_There are a trillion things I want to ask her. Why did she do it? What was wrong? Why didn't she tell me? Was she afraid? What is even going on right now?_

_But I can't ask any of that. So instead I ask, like the idiot I am, "What?"_

"_Don't be afraid of me," she murmurs. She can tell that I'm nervous. Of course I am. I'm shaking and everything. Two seconds to crying my eyes out over her again._

_But I can never be afraid of Bella. I'm afraid of her actions. I'm afraid of her mind and the things she can—or could—do. But I am not afraid of her. "I'm not," I reply._

"_Don't be ashamed of me."_

_I can't be ashamed of her, either. She's broken. The story's old now. She got sad, I came around to help, the end. "I'm not. I love you, Bella. I love you."_

"_I love you, Jake."_

_She loves me. She fucking loves me!_

…_But why am I so surprised?_

"_I can't wait to greet you," is the last thing she tells me._

_And then she's gone._

*.*.*

Then I woke up.

I woke up and realized that today was her funeral.

I looked at my digital clock and saw that it was five in the morning. Basically like sleeping in, when you compare it to the patrolling hours, but still not enough sleep. "Fuck," I groaned.

* * *

So little time had passed since Charlie had asked me to speak at the funeral, but today was the day. The Sunday after she died. So holy. They'd done it in a little less than a week, though. Speedy. I even heard that Bella's mom was in town.

Even though I knew exactly what I was going to say, I couldn't help but practice reciting it in the shower. It felt weird talking about Bella in the shower, but I went with it. Huh. I remembered when I used to think about Bella herself _in_ the shower. Goddamn. This was so wrong now.

I was ready to go in a black suit, black pants, a navy blue tie (Bella had once told me she loved that tie on me, and of course, she started blushing after that), a white dress shirt, and black loafers way before my father was (okay, dumb statement, of course I was ready before him), but once we were both ready, I drove us to the church where Bella's funeral was going to be held. Well, after waiting for a couple of hours. We were early to the church.

I had wheeled my dad into the church, and when I almost immediately stepped outside to get a breath of fresh air (but _oh my fucking God, it's a fucking open casket, why the fuck would they do that_), I saw Edward Cullen standing next to his car: a Volvo, also known as the vampire soccer mom van. And he was just here because he knew that he could be there; we were in Forks, so he would be safe here. But other than that, he had no reason to be at Bella's funeral, because he was the blame for the need of a funeral in the first place. That sparkling fucker.

"I doubt Charlie invited you," I said, approaching Edward.

"You're correct," he replied. "What a show it would be to have Charlie see me here." He chuckled darkly.

"That's really not funny," I warned.

"Please, don't come any closer," he said. "You stink."

Menacingly, I inched closer to him. "You really don't wanna start comparing stinks. And you really don't wanna be here right now. Nobody wants to see you."

"I'll be gone in a minute," he told me, "but I think I found something."

_No fucking way. _"What?"

"I found something about—"

"Cullen?" I heard a voice ask. I turned and—surprise, surprise—there was none other than Charlie.

Edward must have dodged his thoughts or something, because his face was a little surprised when he saw Charlie. "Good morning, Chief Swan."

"What are you even doing here?" Charlie asked him. "I'm pretty sure you weren't invited." I could tell that he was trying his hardest to not punch Edward in the face. Then again, who wouldn't want to punch the filthy leech in the face right now?

"I wasn't," Edward said, keeping his cool. "I was just telling Jacob something."

Charlie gave me a strange look. What was I supposed to do? Pretend like I didn't even know Edward? Take Edward's side? I did nothing.

"Well, this better hurry," Charlie told Edward once he turned to him again, "because you need to leave, Edward. You weren't good for Bella back then and you are most definitely not good for her now."

"I was just getting to that." Edward stuck out his hand for Charlie to shake (because _man, _wasn't he big on shaking hands to try to fix things that were already beyond repair), and Charlie didn't touch it. He didn't come near the bloodsucker's hand. He just said, "Come on, Jake, the service is about to begin."

_Tell me later_, I thought to Edward. He nodded in agreement, got into his car, and quickly drove away.

* * *

Meeting (and greeting and hugging and shaking hands with and being the shoulder to cry on) Bella's friends and family was like walking down memory lane or something. Just without actually meeting a lot of these people. There were more of Bella's family and friends (was that what they were? The same "friends" that had let Bella fall and hadn't even bothered to help, from what I'd heard?) than there were people from the rez.

I met Bella's mother, Renee Dwyer, for the first time. _My mom would love you_, was what Bella had told me, what seemed like years ago, back in the garage. Renee was too nice. She didn't deserve any of this shit. No wonder why Bella had thought Renee would love me; she loved just about everyone.

I met Mike Newton for a second or third time. The number didn't matter. He was just trying to hold himself together. It was like he hadn't been a complete moron back in February, at the movies. He was a little less marshmallow-like today. Good.

I met Jessica Stanley for the first time. Bella had told me about her, too. _Jessica would annoy the crap out of you._ I could see that happening. Not today, but if I ever managed to see her at a less serious time.

I also met Angela Weber for the first time. I distinctly remembered Bella telling me, _Angela is like the female counterpart to you. That's how much she means to me. You need to meet her sometime._

Well, there was her wish. I was meeting Angela. If only it wasn't in a manner like this. Leave it to Bella to get what she wanted but in the most twisted ways possible.

I discovered two things at that funeral, before it was even over.

First, funerals really _are_ for the living. Not the dead.

And second, Bella had really included me in her life, yet she hadn't. What did I know about how close she had been with her friends? For all I knew, and as much as I didn't want to believe it, Bella could have been lying. She'd lied to Charlie, lied to her mom… Who was to say that I wasn't just a pawn?

Was _my_ Bella really the Bella I thought I knew?

* * *

I'd planned for my speech to go a lot smoother. No tears, no stuttering, nothing but seriousness. The nervousness and emotion seemed to come out of nowhere. Dammit.

The funeral hadn't seemed to be going for long when it was my time to speak. I got up on the stage and looked at the (small number of) people in the pews. Just… damn.

"Hey," I said into the microphone. "I hope you're all okay. I'm Jacob Black, and I'm Bella's best friend. Yeah, that's what we called each other." I cleared my throat and went on. "We've known each other since we were five, making mud pies down in La Push. And after not talking for the years she didn't live in this state, she returned and we later became best friends again, just minus the mud pies.

"Bella was such a girl. She was a loving, kind person in general. She loved the sun, and the moon, and the stars, and everything. She loved to help people. I know that she didn't have many friends, but she didn't treat her true friends badly. And I know she went through some tough times, but she did try to make things better in her relationships, and she did.

"Even the little things counted with her. If I was stuck on my homework, she'd help me. She wouldn't even question it. If I needed someone to talk to, she was there. With Bella, she was always there. Since January, Bella and I would spend every day in my garage. We would just sit around, talk, occasionally do homework, mainly work on my car, and never stop drinking soda. Warm grape sodas were her favorite, by the way. We would do the same things every day for hours on end, but she would never get tired of it, and I would never get tired of her.

"Bella had this presence. She was… someone to think about. Even when she wasn't there at the moment, she was on my mind. And it was like… it was like she knew. She knew how much I loved her, and I still do. When we would goof off in the garage, or attempt to cook for each other, or walk down First Beach nearly every day, or just sit down in talk, we enjoyed each other. We always did.

"I love her. I'll always love Bella. She used to call me her own personal sun. She also said that I made things so much better for her. I'd helped her. If things hadn't gone the way they had, she probably would have told me she was in love with me.

"And I was in love with her. I still am. Bella Swan was an amazing person, and I am proud to call myself her friend. My life would be so different without her."

And I was finally done. Tears and all.

_Not so bad._

* * *

The rest of the funeral went okay. I'd been trying hard to avoid the open casket, but toward the end, I couldn't anymore.

I hadn't taken a good look at Bella's body in the casket, but when I finally saw it, I felt like I was reliving the dream I'd just had.

And I almost fell to my knees, just like in that creepy dream.

Bella, my poor dead Bella, was in her casket. One hand over the other, eyes closed. That was fine, I guessed. Nothing weird.

But there was a crown of red and white roses on her head. Just like the ones in the dream. Wouldn't they rot in the casket over time?

The tears almost came again, but I knew I had to stay strong. This was too much crying for such a short amount of time.

I didn't dare smell Bella or take a chance on finding out if this really _was_ my dream occurring again, but the crown of roses was still enough to creep me out. Wasn't enough to keep me away, though.

"Hey, Bells," I murmured. "Did you get what you wanted?"

No response. (Thank God.)

"Maybe this really is all about you. I hope you know you've got some people feeling really bad here."

I paused.

"Was I not enough for you, Bella? Do you know how much I love you?"

Of course I hadn't been enough. I was a fucking idiot.

"I wish I could go inside your mind. And maybe I will. Maybe Edward found something interesting. Then again, your life was interesting already. Vampires, werewolves… What's next? Zombies? Or witches? How about ghosts?"

Knowing her, she would find a way to the weirdness again. Sam was right. Bella really was good with weird.

"I love you, Bella."

* * *

I just happened to be one of the people to carry Bella's casket out of the church, and I also witnessed the burial. I'd always heard that the burial was the worst part. I understood. Seeing my friend—my _best_ friend, my _girlfriend_ (in a sense), somebody I loved so much that it hurt—being buried six feet under was a lot.

She'd been here with me just a week ago. Last Sunday, we'd been on First Beach, trying to make things work since she'd just figured out that I was a werewolf. Things were intense, but we'd been trying to make things work. Weren't making things work and being flexible the things that she did best? She'd dated a vampire. She'd befriended a werewolf. Flexibility could have been her middle name.

She'd also been abused by a vampire. Chewed up and spat out. Lost the best things—the things that normal people have, but were a treasure for her. Gained the worst things—like the inability to really love and trust others. As much as I liked to think I was her savior, for my own pride, Bella had to have been broken beyond repaired, deep down.

And I'd accepted her that way. She was messed up, but that was okay. I was there for most of the time. I took the time to help and I gave her time, too. Maybe not enough time?

This was a lot to think about.

So instead of making my mind explode, I looked down at the lowered casket and sent Bella's body one last thought.

_Kwop kilawtley._

If only she really could stay with me forever. A man could hope.

* * *

After taking my father to Charlie's place (since Charlie didn't want to be alone and Renee didn't want to be around anyone—not even her new husband), I went to the same spot near the borderline where I'd met Edward just the other day. He was already there. Smelled just as bad.

"So what did you find?" I asked Edward.

"I didn't find it. Alice did."

"Shit, _she's_ back, too?"

Edward nodded. "Anyway," he said, "Alice was in Bella's house this morning, looking for things for me, and she came across a box."

"A box of what?" I prompted.

"Letters. A large number of letters, at that."

"Well, what the fuck are you waiting for!?" I demanded. "Show me them."

"Okay, okay," he said. "But they're… surprising. I think they'll keep us wondering for a while."

* * *

_**A/N: **Who would I be if not dramatic? Haha, and that was chapter four. I'll update soon. Thursday the 22nd (omfg that's Thanksgiving [in the U.S.]) at the latest. In the mean time, I'll be getting ready for Breaking Dawn Part 2! Hopefully I'll be recovered enough to get back to writing. The end's gonna hurt me, man._

_Take care, stay warm (I'm getting a fricking cold THIS week of all weeks), watch BD-2 in theaters because it's the "epic finale that will live forever," whatever,_

_MTL (MTW :3)._


	4. Chapter Four

_**A/N: **Hey, guys! Lol, this story has, like, zero readers. That's okay, though. I just want to tell a story. I don't think this story is going to be longer than twelve chapters. I wanna keep it short and dense. You feel me? Also, t__his story takes place in 2012 for the sake of my sanity. It started in March, fyi. Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter Four**

* * *

Edward had given me a box. It was a plain old cardboard box, but I handled it as if it was the most prized possession I could have. I held it like it was the Holy Grail itself or something. And in a way, it was to me. The box contained items that could be really important.

The box contained letters that Bella wrote. I wasn't sure who they were addressed to, but she'd written them.

Without even asking if Edward wanted to see him (because knowing his stalking ass, he'd probably read them, anyway), I took the box home, shut my bedroom door, and warily peered into the box. From what it looked like, and to my surprise, the letters weren't even opened yet. Vampires could reseal envelopes and shit, though, couldn't they? I would just not believe that Alice and Edward had left these letters alone.

For a quick second, I didn't want to open the letters. I didn't even want to touch them. I felt like… like something bad would happen if I did. Bella was already dead; letters she'd written back when she was alive wouldn't help anything now.

Oh shit, I was turning into Edward. And that couldn't happen. He may have given up on her, but I wouldn't. Swallowing my fears (which were really ridiculous at this point), I reached into the box and pulled out the letters, all at once. It was a pretty dense stack; there were only about seven or eight letters, but some of them seemed thick.

They happened to have dates on them, and they were recent.

They also lead up to the exact day Bella killed herself, Tuesday, March thirteenth. Today was Sunday the eighteenth. The envelopes of the letters had the dates scratched onto them in black pen, just in Bella's offbeat handwriting.

_March sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth._

She'd been writing for a whole week before she killed herself, and she'd also missed school for the latter half of the week before winter break, which was the seventh and on.

It was like she'd been planning all of this. _Waiting_ for the moment to come or something.

Without any hesitations, I opened the letter marked as March sixth.

Bella's off-center, awkward handwriting was so familiar that I wanted to cry. I wanted to kick through the walls and somehow—just _somehow_—get her back.

_Dear Jacob, Charlie, Edward, Alice, or anyone else that cares, _was what she'd written. Edward's name had been crossed out once, but then added again.

_I know you'll find these letters someday, and I know you'll be mad at me, but I can't just have you not know what is happening to me. Or was, depending on how things end up._

_I feel like Jacob knows the whole story. He really should. Jake, if you're reading this, I just want you to know that you're my best friend and I love you for it. You are the best. I'm sorry for never being this deep with you before. I feel like I never invited you in, and maybe I will, in the next couple of days, depending on how things end up._

_I don't think I'm going to change my mind, though._

_Bella._

I flipped the paper to its other side, turned it upside down, and even looked closely between the lines to find something. That couldn't be it. It really couldn't be. I knew that this was only the letter from March sixth and I had seven letters left, but was that really it?

I sighed. If each of these letters were going to be this non-descriptive, I would find out nothing. There wouldn't be any point in anything. I _had_ to make some sense of this.

I owed it to Bella. And didn't she owe it to me to give me something to understand?

* * *

I read the next two letters and got my heart broken over and over again. First, because the things Bella had to say were intense. And two, because I had no fucking idea about anything and she had no intentions of ever telling me.

I discovered a few things about Bella's personal life.

The littlest things had made her happy and the littlest things had pissed her off. School was one of the latter things. No wonder why she'd missed those few days before she… jumped. Forks High School sounded like hell.

Also, Bella hadn't exactly liked how things had been between her and Edward. She'd tried everything to make him see things her way; he never listened to her… That was all expected. You couldn't get anything out of Edward. He was such a stuck-up twat, and that hadn't died down when someone who _loved_ his conceitedness gave up.

But Bella still loved him. That was all she wrote about in the letters from the seventh and the eighth. She loved him and his craziness just a little too much, and that was easy to see. She'd written in a letter from the eighth:

_Edward's both a god and a monster. He just does whatever he wants, except gives me what I really want. He also takes. I think I told Jacob this before. It's weird how I keep talking about Edward like he's going to come back. I keep talking about him like he's still here, like he's always been here. I've never been that great of a liar. Especially to myself. I think I'm crazy._

_Edward is crazy, too, but he has something. He has something I need. It's like medicine. He has love. Love for me. I want to shoot it up and get high off of it. (I learned that metaphor in something I read online.) He still loves me. I know he does. I don't know how I know this, but I do. He certainly loved me enough to let me do something for him one time. I don't want to talk about it._

_You see that? I can't talk in real life and I can't even open up in a pathetic letter. I really have nothing to lose and nothing to gain. I don't get along with anybody. Not Charlie, not Edward, not Mike. Not even God. Dammit._

_I am living in a fucked up holiday. Jacob once called me an angel. Ha. I love him, but he doesn't get it. He's never going to get it, and I'm never going to give anything to him. I am the worst angel ever. He thinks I'm so innocent. I like to think I'm innocent. I'm not, though. Mike knows that. Mike's part of the reason why. "Innocence lost" was what he told me the other night in his car. But he also told me to not worry about it. Maybe I'm so fucked up now because I never worry about anything in the first place._

_I wonder what Jacob would do if he found out I'm sleeping with Mike. Maybe he would kill him. I feel really bad about this._

(The last sentence was crossed out and replaced with, _This makes me feel better. I'm okay._)

_When I'm with Mike, it's like I'm watching a movie. I don't feel like myself, and it makes me crazy. I once read somewhere that life imitates art, though. And Mike said I could be a little prettier. I really could be. It's not that hard. If I were a little prettier, I would really be his. He wouldn't go running off to Jessica every other night. Maybe Edward would come back, too, but things would be complicated, or even more so. It just depends on how things end up._

_Jake, if you're reading this (which I know you are), I'm sorry. I'm sorry and I love you. I told you not to waste your time, though. I told you to not wait for me. So don't._

That was when I nearly passed out. I couldn't even finish the letter.

I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening thinking. Just thinking about what I'd read.

She'd been with Mike. _Mike!? _Why, though? Why would she even do that to herself? I needed answers. These letters weren't giving them to me. They just kept breaking me down. Breaking, pushing, demolishing.

What I'd read today was more dramatic and revealing than any novel I'd read.

I wanted to kill Edward. I wanted to kill Mike. I wanted to kill myself. How could either of them look at me in the eyes today without a sense of regret? _They_ had killed Bella.

And Bella had trumped me. She'd used me, and I'd been more than willing to let her.

Bella had outplayed everybody. Even herself. She was like… this strange mix of a girl that couldn't contain herself. It was like she'd been torn between being a good person, doing the things that made her happy, and doing the things that she could, simply because she was Bella.

If she'd wanted to be a good person then she would have gone to school and got things together; if she'd wanted to make herself happy then she would have killed herself way sooner; and if she'd wanted to do the things that she could, simply because she was Bella and Bella could do any fucking thing she felt like doing, then she would have slept with the whole town and not give one fuck in the world.

Maybe she'd killed herself in the end in the fear of people of people finding out what she'd been doing and how she'd been living.

But not even I could fully figure out what she'd been doing, and I was supposed to be her best friend.

Bella Swan had been the ultimate catalyst. Memories of my dream came flooding back to me.

But I still wasn't afraid or ashamed of her. I couldn't be. I had put so much time and effort and love toward her. I couldn't give up on her now.

This was a fucking load of thinking to be doing. I looked at my clock and surprisingly, it was 11:02pm. I was so drained. I needed to sleep on this.

_Fuck patrolling_, I thought. _I'm not being paid to run all night, I can't get fired from not going, and they don't need me._

I didn't know who to blame for all of this. I didn't want to blame Bella, because even as I was aware that she wasn't, she was an angel to me. I loved her too much to blame her for anything. She was like this angel that needed an escape. And she'd gotten it.

But I was still pissed with her. She hadn't loved me that much. She hadn't taken me seriously. I'd given her everything. _Everything that I could give her._ Was that enough for her?

_Fuck the world_, I decided.

I tried to shove the thoughts out this horrid day out of my head, and when I finally did, as I started getting ready for bed, something happened. Scared the shit out of me.

The temperature of my room fell. Just_ dropped_. I remained warm (since that's what being a damn werewolf does) but my room didn't. And my hair stood on end. I hadn't been this scared since I was a kid. Nothing scared me anymore. I'd been through my mother dying. I'd been through my best friend dying. I'd met vampires. I was a werewolf. I had nothing to be afraid of now.

Except this, whatever it was.

The lamp in my room flickered and that didn't calm me down at all. I had no idea why I was so scared. It was raining outside. It was raining _hard_. Didn't rain mess with electricity like that?

But then I knew that I wasn't alone.

The smell of honey and lavender filled the air. It made me sick now. Beyond sick.

_Oh, God no._

* * *

_**A/N: **And that was chapter four. If I keep giving these cliffhanger chapter endings people are gonna get mad, lol. Anyway, review if you'd like to. It really, REALLY helps when I can see what the actual hell my readers are thinking. Happy Thanksgiving (to those that celebrate it)! I'll update next week. :)  
_

_xo, MTL._


	5. Chapter Five

_**A/N: **Sorry for the delay. They might occur more often, because I'm still working on Femme Fatale. (Sorry, Primadonna's not gonna work.) Anyway, this chapter is about 4,000 words long, so it's longer than the others. Read carefully, have a cup of tea, whatever. This chapter really sets a few things in stone. All I want is for you to enjoy. :)_

* * *

**Chapter Five**

The chilling feeling left as quickly as it had arrived. I felt a cold breeze of air brush past me, as if it was touching me, and then everything was back to normal. The peculiar smell was gone, as if it had never showed up in the first place.

_Holy fucking shit._

I didn't fall asleep until two in the morning, and when I did, I dreamed of Bella. It reminded me of when she'd written in a letter—sometime in the letter from March seventh—how much she'd dreamed of Edward. It was like Bella and I were more connected now, even as she wasn't with me anymore.

* * *

The next day was Monday. Monday meant school. Normally I would have really not looked forward to it, but I knew I had to go today. I had to continue to feel human. It might get my mind away from things I didn't want to think about, like Bella's secret life and that nasty Mike Newton. It just might.

Okay, maybe not.

Because I knew that it would break me into two, I didn't take my motorcycle to school. I could drive, after all. I didn't need any bugs flying at my face. I didn't need to be riding one of the things that a girl had brought to me months ago. It had been in pieces—the bikes _and_ the girl—but I'd fixed the bikes, just to make the girl happy. Obviously I hadn't fixed the girl. Dammit.

Anyway, I took the Rabbit to school. At least I hadn't built the _Rabbit_ to make her happy. The Rabbit and I had more prehistory. That counted for something, right?

Fuck. Here I was, talking about the relationship between me and a damn car. _A car!_ I was losing my fucking mind and I wasn't even done reading all the letters yet. They were still stowed away under my bed. What a hiding spot.

I got to school early. Way too earlier than I should have. I'd even picked up Embry and we'd still gotten to school early as fuck. Nobody I knew was there. Nobody was there, period; nobody ever was. You'd think that a school that serves everyone from the age of five to eighteen would have more than seventy people in it. We didn't even have that, but with three hundred something people on the rez (yeah, I'd done my research), I'd thought that maybe—just maybe—there'd be more people in school.

Now, I wasn't an education nut. Never was. My life went how most peoples' lives on the rez went: born on the rez, grow up on the rez, go to the school on the rez with the same kids from kindergarten until you graduate (if you're that lucky), possibly get married on the rez, have kids on the rez, grow old on the rez, and eventually die—on the rez. I was about that life. I couldn't think of one person that wasn't.

Well, besides Embry.

You see, we'd all had a choice. _We_ meaning me and the pack. Education-wise (because there was no fucking way to get out of phasing into a wolf), we'd all had a choice, and we still did. We could change our minds at any times. And I almost wanted to, before Bella was gone. _Man_, I would have transferred for her. I would have dropped everything at this shitty rez school and go to her shitty, non-rez school, just for her.

But that didn't matter anymore.

Anyway, like I said, I wasn't an education nut. I'd learned this all from Embry. Embry was all about that life. Billy hadn't told me this, Harry hadn't told me this… Nobody had told me this but Embry. Nobody but Embry had made me aware of my choices, and if it weren't for him, I still wouldn't know now. We'd—the pack, me, pretty much every kid on the rez—had the choice to get a somewhat better education, at Forks High School. Both the Quileute Tribal School and Forks High School were small-ass schools in Washington state that nobody gave a shit about, but everyone thought Forks High School was better. Especially Embry. And as we walked through school, Embry was going on one of his many rants about education and how much _we_ needed it. Us. Our people. The future. Damn. And I'd thought he'd lost all of his ambitions when he'd phased.

Embry Call, one of my best friends along with Quil Ateara, should have had way less hope than most of us in the pack, but then again, none of us really had hope. We'd all been screwed. But Embry—God, Mr. Determination, as we frequently called him—was more driven than he should have been. Embry had been raised by his mom. His dad was totally out of the picture. Hell, he didn't even know _who_ his dad was and it was putting a toll on all of us since he could have been my dad, Quil's dad, or Sam's dad. Embry's mom couldn't even stand to be around her own son, though; she didn't know about him phasing or anything. So really, Embry's life was fucked. But he wanted things to be different. He wanted to grow up and _be_ somebody and prove everybody wrong. But things would have to be different. I knew how much he wanted things to be different because I was the only person who would listen to him and I heard him going off about it all the time, especially right now.

"It's really not fucking cool how we're stuck here with kindergarteners," he grumbled to me that morning as we walked through the empty halls. "If we went to school in _Forks_ then we'd be getting an education."

"I've never told you to shut up before, Emb," I said, "but I think you should shut up."

"No, really," he went on. "If I was at Forks High, do you know where I'd be? I'd be in AP classes. I'd be in Trig or maybe even Calculus, even as a sophomore; I wouldn't be in Geometry, which is easy as fuck. Hell, I'd even be in Honors English."

"I believe you," I said, rolling my eyes. "I get it. You're too smart for your own good. You deserve better. Half of us do."

"Exactly," he agreed. "Sometime I'm gonna get out of here."

"Don't get ahead of yourself," I told him. "You're gonna phase for a long time."

He sighed. "Right. Right, right, right. I still wanna transfer to Forks, though. You may not want a decent education, Jake, but I do. And think about this: there was a _forty-two percent_ dropout rate in the entire district three years ago, and _fifty-five_ students per teacher."

"And I believe you, Embry. So shut up."

If only he knew just how much I had to deal with these days that had me care a little less about my education and its value. I was glad I hadn't phased yesterday. Everything would have been revealed.

As the morning slowly progressed, I actually did think about my education for a little bit. I took a piece of what Embry had said into consideration, but then I eventually decided that I would die here, anyway. Also, a college would never accept me. I wished Embry the best, though. He could make it.

And when I walked past Leah this morning, I realized that she could make it, too. Leah and Embry had more in common than I'd thought, and it scared the shit out of me, since they were both so vocal about their problems.

Leah had to be just as ambitious as Embry, even as she was a spitfire than nobody liked to be around. I could imagine her going to college if she ever learned how to calm down. If she wasn't so harsh, Embry would have dropped me and became Leah's best friend. Leah could participate in his rants. But then who would I have? Definitely not Quil; he had just phased, around the same times as Leah and Seth, but he actually _liked_ it. How could I relate to that? It wasn't ever really that hard for me to feel at home, but now that Bella was gone, it was.

What was home to me now?

* * *

If you looked at how everyone in the pack acted at school, you wouldn't think they had the ability to turn into huge wolves. Well, at least not some of us. There were the people like Paul and Jared who could snap back to their normal selves like nothing was wrong in an instant, and there were the people like Leah and Seth who made it easier to tell that they were getting less sleep at night and not bouncing back as quickly. Seth had usually been one to bounce back. Leah, not so much.

Paul and Jared were pretty damn popular for sophomores, or they must've thought they were. They were always going on about how they thought they were hot shit. They hit on every girl over the age of thirteen (which wasn't that bad to them, since they were sixteen, just like me, Quil, and Embry). They were beasts on the fields and the courts. Little kids were scared to death of them. Paul and Jared were just Paul and Jared. Paul fought a lot at school, but he never lost it there. Not even once. Outside of school he lost it too much, though. Paul would be the Beta of the pack if he didn't resemble a firecracker that much. Jared was the Beta by default.

Quil, Embry and I were the "chiller" sophomores, as Embry had defined us one day at lunch. Embry and I didn't look for attention. Quil did—and a little too much for his own good—but he always came back to me and Embry when his plans often failed. Seth even joined our little circle at some point. He never left it since.

And Leah. Oh, Leah. She was on her own a lot. She was a senior and the oldest out of the pack that still went to school—Sam (plus Emily) was a year older. Leah didn't have a lot of friends. I didn't think she had any. Every other day when I saw her sitting alone at lunch, I wanted to talk to her. Sappy, I know, but I did. I wanted to sit down next to her and try to strike up a conversation.

But I knew it would just end in one of us running away, so why waste my time?

Even as we were all different at school, we were still outcasts. Seth told me that, today in sixth period. It was Gym so we all had that class together. After a numb day full of girls telling me they were "sorry about my loss" (but what the fuck did _they_ know?), I had to have an entire class period with the people I would be with right after school, anyway. We were bound that tight.

And on my way out of school, Leah caught up with me. She actually wanted to talk to me without bitching me out. This was new. I didn't even know it was her at first.

"Hey, Jake," a female voice said. I turned around and saw Leah—yes, Leah fucking Clearwater—reaching out to me, like I hadn't heard her the first time.

"Oh hey," I replied. "Did anything happen last night? With the leech?"

She shrugged. "I wouldn't know," she said. "I didn't go with them."

"But you're the fastest," I replied. And she really was.

"And you're the Alpha but you didn't go, either," she mentioned.

"But why didn't _you_ go? Did Sam piss you off or something? Or was it Paul?"

"I stayed at home and studied, actually," she admitted.

"Is this some sort of social experiment? Be a nerd for a night?"

"No. Just because you don't want to graduate doesn't mean that I don't want to."

I sighed. "Dammit. You and Embry keep bitching to me about our education, when really, who the hell cares?"

She shrugged. "Obviously not you. I just don't want to be stuck on the rez forever."

"Aren't we already bound to be here forever, anyway?"

"Not if you make a change."

"Hey, I'm not about changes," I said.

"Well, of course not. With Bella and all."

She just had to talk about her. She couldn't have shut up about her. "Thanks, Leah," I said bitterly, walking away from her. "Thanks a lot."

She caught up with me and tugged my arm. "Hey, stop," she said. "I know she's gone but you can't act like it never happened. Wasn't the funeral for that?"

"It hasn't even been a damn week since she died," I replied, "and you expect me to get over it?"

"That's not what I'm saying at all!" she protested. "What I'm saying is, you should give life a chance again. You've been holed up in your house since when? Last week? Are you really that depressed?"

_I'm not stuck in my house because I'm sad_, I wanted to tell her. _I mean, I really am sad, but that's not it.. I'm stuck in my house because of these fucking letters and I want to figure out what was going on with Bella._

Wow. One of the rare times when I had my mind to myself, and I wanted to tell Leah some things but I couldn't. I couldn't tell anybody about these letters. The pack would start talking and the letters would get around everywhere—_everywhere_—and people would know. I could see it now. Bella being talked about poorly in death, too. She wasn't an angel; that had been proven in her last couple of letters. But she was to me. She still was, and I had to keep things under control. Since I couldn't save her in life, I had to protect her in death. Wasn't that what I owed her, for not saving her from drowning quickly enough?

"You okay, Jake?" Leah asked me. I had frozen, right in the middle of the hall, caught in my own thoughts.

I blinked a couple of times and started walking again, faster this time. "I'm fine," I called over my shoulder. "I'll see you later, alright?"

I couldn't even hear or see her response. I was already out the door.

* * *

I had gotten this… this _surge_ of adrenaline to get home and return to the letters, because as much as they scared me to death, I needed to know. I needed to know everything. I'd thought I'd figured Bella out before (but look where she'd ended up), and I was trying to figure her out again, only I didn't want to date her. I just wanted to… to understand. I was sick of being confused. I was sick of not knowing. I didn't know a damn thing about Bella when she was alive, as much as I wanted to convince myself that I did, and I didn't know a damn thing now.

I was driving back to my house, and right at the treaty line, I managed to almost hit someone with my car.

That someone was none other than Edward. Cocky, annoying, know-it-all Edward Cullen. I would never lose the urge to punch him in the face, because even as things were sort of my fault, things were more his fault than mine. _I _hadn't dated her and then left her over nothing. _I _hadn't made her so depressed that she'd wanted to jump off a cliff.

Then again, I hadn't been there to stop her.

Okay, there was enough blame to go around. But at least I was doing something about it. He hadn't touched the letters.

I got out of the Rabbit and met him at the usual spot in the woods.

"Your thoughts are giving me a headache, dog," Edward spat at me.

"And the fact that you're still alive after basically killing Bella is really giving _me_ a headache," I replied, "but we can't all get what we want."

"Well, that escalated quickly."

"What do you even want from me?" I asked. "My life isn't revolved around you. I might have somewhere to be."

"I think I'm finished with this," he admitted.

I froze. "Finished with what?"

"All of this… drama with Bella."

I knew he'd give up on her—again.

And he didn't reply to my thought, which meant that I was right. Hadn't I always been the right one out of us two?

"What, do you got someone else to be with?" I challenged. "Moving on so quickly?"

"My family and I are starting over," he told me, still calm. "If I found Bella, I can find someone else, but I'm not counting on that."

"I always knew this would happen," I said bitterly. "I just knew it. You can't take how much regret you have. You can't do shit."

"At least I know that Bella loved me," he said, more irritated. "Because she really did. I'm sorry, but she never loved you. I didn't have to read her mind to figure that out. It has always been me."

"Okay," I said sarcastically. "She was thinking of her _love_ for you when she was fucking that Mike kid, right? She fucked him to pronounce her _love_ for you, right?"

He was silent.

"You didn't know about Bella and Mike, huh?" I asked. "You didn't care enough to even _try_ to figure it out. Well, there you have it. I'd tell you to go kill him, but breaking the treaty wouldn't really help you alone like this. The truth's there, though. Your innocent Bella was fucking some kid from her school and—"

I couldn't finish what I was saying, because he shoved me back ten feet, and I was suddenly a wolf. Quickest phase I'd ever done.

I leapt at him, about to tackle him to the ground and rip him to shreds once and for all, but suddenly a flash of white dashed in front of Edward and threw me back again. At that instant, a thousand thoughts seemed to be whirring in my mind, only I could hear two different voices. Leah and Seth. They were here.

I looked forward and saw another bloodsucker—she had gold eyes just like Edward—in front of Edward. Like she was protecting him or something, even as she was basically a midget.

_What are you waiting for!? _An inner voice demanded. Oh. Leah. _Kill them!_

_Wait, _Seth thought. _Let 'em go, Jake._

Suddenly, Leah and Seth were next to me, facing Edward and the other bloodsucker.

"Move, Alice," Edward said, stepping in front of her. "I've got this."

Leah growled at them and snapped her teeth. _Don't be a pussy, Jake_, she thought. _GET THEM._

Seth whimpered. _Calm down, Leah._

I ignored the both of them and directed my thoughts to Edward._ Get the fuck out,_ I thought. _Leave. Now. You said you were done with Bella. Stick to your promises._

"I'm perfectly content with that," he said.

_Good. If you come back, we will kill you. No hesitations._

"I doubt that."

Leah snarled. Alice hissed. And as if nothing had happened, Alice and Edward went away. They were out of my sight in less than two seconds.

Leah, Seth, and I didn't phase back—we just stayed in wolf form and went back home.

_Ugh, I totally had it,_ Leah thought. _If he had just said one more thing I would have got him._

_Yeah, _I replied, _and Seth would have gotten it, too._

_Stop downplaying me,_ Seth butt in. _I'm not a baby._

_Well, you certainly act like one_, Leah responded bluntly. _Jake, what the fuck stopped you from killing them?_

_I don't know, _I thought._ I just… I just thought I shouldn't._

_Was it because of Bella? _Seth asked.

I couldn't lie to him now. _Yeah._

* * *

I actually went patrolling for once that night, and I could only pray for the red-headed leech to be killed.

Being a werewolf was like a sport; when the parasites were here, we phased and went after them. New people started phasing, too. When the parasites were gone, we got to be more human. Wear clothes if we wanted to, just to _feel_ human. Go to school five days a week because _humans_ went to school. Off-season was boring as hell, but I would do anything for it instead of running perimeters and all that shit. Right now, the season was at full throttle. I couldn't wait for this bloodsucker to just be killed already. We'd been trying to find her for weeks. This was the longest it'd taken us.

So I ended up crashing into bed at eleven that night, which was basically like going to bed early for a patrolling night. And of course, Bella invaded my mind. There wasn't any cool breeze this time. Nothing out of the ordinary and nothing scary. Just my own thoughts.

Maybe Bella hadn't wanted to sleep with Mike. When we'd went to the movies last February (_damn_, just a month ago), she hadn't seemed to like Mike at all. I mean… he was a nerd. He'd thrown up at a movie that wasn't even scary. I couldn't see what Bella could have seen in Mike.

I didn't like to think that Bella had been forced into having sex with Mike, but that was one of the conclusions I came to. In what world would Bella actually want Mike!? She'd been tiny. Mike could have easily forced himself on her. Or bribed her (but what could she want?). Or blackmailed her (but what could have she been hiding?).

Or maybe…

Or maybe Mike knew something. Maybe he knew something that he shouldn't have known and had been using it against Bella as blackmail. Bella'd been a pretty girl; he would've wanted to sleep with her, and knowing something that wasn't something for him to know could've been the key.

And maybe she'd killed herself out of regret of sleeping with Mike. Or maybe it wasn't even out of sex; maybe she'd just killed herself because he knew something, which could have resulted in her sleeping with him. Or maybe she'd been sleeping with him "just because," (then again, if she'd wanted someone to sleep with out of pure boredom or curiosity, then why not me?) and he'd used that against her. She could have killed herself because Mike had been threatening to tell people they'd been sleeping together. Obviously, no one else had known, because that news would have spread like wildfire and I would have known in no time.

The possibilities were endless. My mind was rattling. I needed sleep.

I needed to keep reading the letters.

* * *

_**A/N: ***sigh* And that was chapter five of Gods and Monsters. "It's innocence lost." Lol. Lyric mention. By the way, this story is named after a Lana Del Rey song of the same name. Recently, all I've been doing is naming my stories after Lana songs and lyrics. I'm a bit obsessed. Anyway, last night I took about half an hour to get some main points of this story down in my phone; that's where I keep all my ideas. This story just has more twists and turns._

_So, what did you guys think? Feedback really helps. (And it makes me write fast. Lawl.)_

_Take care, have a happy December, wear scarves,_

_MTL. x_

_**Update: **I'm going to try to update this fanfic way more often than once a week, so stay tuned. I have the entire story mapped out now, so nothing should be stopping me from writing it. Keep your eyes peeled; I want to update as much as I can.__  
_


	6. Chapter Six

_**A/N: **Hey, guys. I've updated. I'll be updating way more often. I've got a full map of this story and nothing should be holding me back. Hope you enjoy this chapter! It's got feels. :3_

* * *

**Chapter Six**

My eyes snapped open and all of a sudden, I wasn't tired anymore. I didn't want to sleep—at all. I wanted more answers.

I took a deep breath and reached under my bed for the box of letters. They were right where I'd left them, the cover on and everything. I could read three letters today. Three letters would be enough. Any ordinary guy with a dead girlfriend (because what else could I call Bella, now that I knew that she'd loved me?) probably wouldn't even attempt to stay up for hours and hours reading these letters, trying to figure out what was happening. The girl was dead, so what was the point? But I wasn't any ordinary guy. I was far from it.

After sitting up and carefully setting the box on my bed, I stood up walked across my small room to turn to light on, but when I turned back around to my bed, the cover had been removed from the box and placed right next to it. Just like that. It was tempting me even more than it already did; it was… _inviting _me in.

And I knew that boxes couldn't just up and uncover themselves.

Slowly—_instinctively_—that awful, unusual smell of lavender and honey came back, wafting around me. I could almost feel it swirling up my nostrils.

Oh, and the coldness. Colder than anything I'd felt before. Colder than the coldest western Washington rain. Even colder than snow. I felt the coldness. I felt it almost too much. My hair even stood on end. I felt that, too.

And I didn't move an inch.

The smell and the coldness didn't even fill the entire room. It circled around me, and then stood behind me. With that, I knew I was most definitely not alone. I could feel a presence behind me, as if someone was literally standing behind me. But I still felt nothing. Nothing solid.

_Oh God, Bella._

I could imagine—short, little, five-foot-four Bella—standing right behind me, breathing onto me. I could imagine her putting her arms up to my shoulders and wrapping her legs around my waist. I could imagine her kissing my bare back slowly and seductively. Jeez, how many times had I imagined this?

_Okay, what the fuck!? Focus, Jake._

Anyway, I could feel her behind me. Well, not _her_, but… a ghost of her. It was like she was there, but still not there.

No, fuck that; she was there and she _wasn't supposed_ to be there.

I'd never been a believer of ghosts. Sure, I was a werewolf and my natural enemy was a vampire, but ghosts? Never thought of them. And I never thought that this would happen to _me_.

I couldn't deny it, though; this had to be Bella's ghost. I couldn't lie to myself anymore. I couldn't think it was _notasbadnotasbaddefinitelyNO Tasbad_ because, well, things could be this bad. I shouldn't be thinking the impossible.

This. Was. Certainly. Possible.

And as much as it scared the shit out of me—_bam._ It was there. _She_ was there. No, no, no. Her _ghost_ was there. Right behind me, reeling me in.

I stayed still for a few more seconds, but then I realized that Bella wouldn't hurt me. She'd hurt me enough in death; couldn't she give it a rest in the afterlife?

I walked over to my bed and sat down, convincing myself that this was for the better. Wasn't it? I picked up the letter marked as March ninth, right on the top of the stack, and carefully unfolded it. I looked down at Bella's slanted handwriting and starting reading, feeling Bella's ghostly presence next to me. I could imagine her sitting next to me on my bed, her arms wrapped around her legs, hugging herself and scrutinizing me.

*.*.*

_Dear Jacob, or Edward, or anybody else reading this,_

_I'm tired of being sorry. I've gone through my entire life being sorry. I can't afford to be sorry anymore; I have to go through with whatever happens._

_But still… I'm sorry. You don't even know half of the issue and you're already forgiving me, aren't you? That's all you do. Forgive me. And I love you for it, since I'm so unforgivable._

_Jacob, if you're reading this, I still love you. I could be at your place, right now, talking to you, laughing with you. But I'm not. It's a Friday night and I'm here alone. Mike's not even coming tonight. At least, I don't think so. He never tells me when he's coming over or when he wants me to come over. It's not like we hang out at each other's houses, though. That would be weird. We usually just hang out in his car in the middle of nowhere. Nobody sees us there. That's one thing I'm proud of._

_Sometimes Mike likes to record us. I know. That's weird. But he's been taking digital media classes or whatever since he was fourteen, and he just likes to keep memories. The things that we do are what he calls memories. Just memories. I call what we do as something else, but that's a different story._

_I really want to become a vampire. It's not even for the beauty or the grace of it all; it's the power. I want to scare Mike senseless and make him drop that stupid video camera that he takes with him when we're together, "making memories." Dirty memories that nobody should see. What an ass._

_I know he has every little thing we've done on that camera of his. But he never lets me have it. He thinks it's funny to randomly email some videos, but he never gives me the camera so I can get rid of it all. With that camera of his, he now holds TWO things against me. He could turn everyone against me even more than they already are not just by telling everyone what he knows, but also showing them the videos just in case people don't believe him. And, trust me, everyone believes Mike Newton._

_I hate what Mike makes me do, but it's not like I can just say no. I have before—that only lead to him forcing it on me, which is even worse. I like to think that I CAN say no, but if I did, Mike still has those two different things against me: what he knows, and the videos. This is easier. I know it is._

_But I also know what's easiest, and it's located right in La Push. The cliffs won't blackmail me. They won't force anything on me or stop me or anything. They're just there. The cliffs won't judge me for all my sins and secrets, either. That's a good thing._

_I love you, Jacob. Nobody will ever compare to you, Edward._

_Love, Bella._

*.*.*

I was frozen. So beyond frozen, and I didn't need the creepy ghost next to me for that (how I was already so at ease with her was crazy; it was just like with Bella, back when she was human and warm and alive).

What the fuck did Mike Newton know? Bella hadn't been a secretive person, but she hadn't seemed to have many secrets of her own. Sure, she'd held the big secret about being involved with vampires in all, but just how the hell had Mike—_Mike_, of all people!—even figured that out in the first place? It was impossible. Just impossible.

_Yeah. "Impossible," said the werewolf who had the ghost of his girlfriend right next to him._

There was no way Mike could know that, though. He had to have known something else. Bella hadn't seemed to be a secretive person, but I didn't know her, based on the information I'd discovered through these letters. All throughout my rekindled friendship with her, I hadn't known or even thought a thing of this.

I now wondered, though, if this had been going on before I'd phased.

Oh God, and I'd actually _known_ Mike then, too. All throughout that horrific night at the movies (well, for most of the time), their entire "deal" could have been at full force. But then again…

Then again, it could have started between me first phasing and me seeing Bella again after that. It'd been a good number of weeks, almost a full month until she died. Their "deal" could have started, and I wouldn't have ever known because I'd spent less time with Bella.

It would make me feel much, much better to know that I hadn't been totally oblivious to their relationship.

Ugh, what the fuck kind of relationship was that, anyway!? I couldn't even call it that. It had been a deal. A sick arrangement for them to fuck probably on a daily basis just so Bella's secret wouldn't get out. Once hadn't even been enough for the sick kid.

But oh, man, if I had known what Mike had been doing to Bella back at the funeral, I would have torn him to shreds. I wouldn't have needed my pack's help to murder him; he would have been mine. How could he even stand there at the funeral, though, and shake my hand and talk to me and everything without breaking a sweat? He'd known that me and Bella had been something. He'd probably thought we'd been dating, too, but that hadn't stopped him from walking into the funeral like he'd been nothing but a friend to her. A mere friend who had nothing to do with Bella's suicide. Wasn't a benefactor or a trigger or anything.

And I still didn't know what he knew. I hadn't lost all hope yet, so I picked up the letter from March tenth. There had to be something. There had to be.

Cold air washed over me again, like Bella's ghost was trying to drown me in her presence. Huh. Pun intended. Okay, sick joke. Well. Whatever.

I put the letter from March ninth at the bottom of the box and picked up the carefully folded letter from March tenth, my hand shaking. The ghost helped out with that part.

I unfolded the letter and forced myself to read the words that I knew would break my heart.

*.*.*

_Dear Jacob and Edward,_

_I really am a fucked up holiday. Mike always calls me that. He thinks he's poetic. I really think he's just high—all the time._

_I'm supposed to be sick of being sorry but here I am. I'm sorry. For everything. I'm too regretful for my own good. Jacob, can you please tell me someday how you just roll with everything? You just… ride. You do what you think is right and you never feel bad for it. At least, you never look regretful when I look at you. You have such a soul, Jacob. Don't let anybody take it away._

_Life shouldn't be that hard. I've always taken life so not seriously. What's the point?_

_Okay, there is a point. There really is. Edward was right; life is worth living. There's no cure to birth or death, so you have to live through what's between it._

_I think I'm going to jump soon. I can feel it. People expect me to be dead, anyway. I haven't been to school since Wednesday, and next week is spring break. Only losers miss a whole half of school right before a break starts the next Monday._

_Fuck. I really do need help. I want to talk to Angela, but won't get it. I can't tell her what my problem is without TELLING her what my problem is, and I can trust her and all, but who says she can't ask Mike why he's doing this to me? Then I would really be screwed._

_I love Angela. I love her. I'm not gay for her or anything but she's my best girlfriend. She's too sweet. She's sweeter than she should be, though. She's called my house twice every day since Wednesday, when I started missing school._

_And there's Jacob. If you're reading this, Jake—wait for it—I'm sorry. I know you won't be reading this until later, depending on how things end up, but I didn't go to school this latter half of the week. (Look at me, using a big, mature, old word. "Latter.") I just stayed home all day, spent some time with Mike once he got out of school, and went to your place right after._

_I'm such a wreck. I've been missing work, too. Yeah, it's just work, but how can I go there every day and look at and talk to Mike for hours, as if nothing ever happens between us? As if we won't be fucking in his stupid Suburban an hour later? I can't look at him at work and know just by looking at him what's going to happen. What he knows is on his lips. It's right there. He can say it at any time he's provoked. That stupid video camera is in his car. If nobody believes what he says, he can whip out the camera and show everyone. He has no problem with exposing me, or himself._

_So I haven't been going to work, either. It's for the better._

_Damn it, Jake, I want to tell you. I clean up well, don't I? I don't smell like a big, heavy, greedy man when I meet you in your garage or on the beach, do I? Maybe this was what we were born to do. You clean up fast from turning into a gigantic wolf; I clean up fast from fucking someone. And here I thought we could open up to each other. Can we?_

_No, here's a better question: can I?_

_And here's an answer: no. Not at all._

_I want to tell you a hundred things to your face. I'm scared. I'm regretful. I'm nervous. I'm a trainwreck. I love you. I love you so much. You're more than sort of beautiful. I really did hit my head a bit hard. But I'm crazy. I'm tired of being crazy. I'm tired of feeling like I'm fucking crazy. I wanna be like you and I wanna be able to fight for who I love. I just wanna be free. I shouldn't have to deal with this. I can tell myself a thousand times that I do deserve this, but I don't. I DON'T. I want to be free. I WANT TO FUCKING BE FREE ALREADY._

_But I'm still crazy. I'm wild. That was all me; you put me at ease and Edward puts me at stress but the craziness? One woman job. I'm insane, but I know you love me. You hold my hand and wrap your arms around me, and as much as I'm afraid to tell you, I like it. I love it. I'm still nervous, though. And scared._

_I am fucking crazy, but would you still love me if I changed?_

_Imagine it for a second: I'm normal. I'm pretty and not as pale as a sheet and I have a sense of humor. I wear short skirts and I crack jokes and I wear makeup and really try to impress people. I go through my little crises (what should I do with my hair? The horror!) but I eventually bounce back and go back to being my normal, sunny self. I'm actually interested in motorcycles as well as other things, like holding hands and kissing and dating. Dating! I have boundaries but I'll still let you kiss me and touch me all over the place. I convince you to go to my school so we can be together more often. We mature together there. Everything works out. You ask me to the Prom and I say yes and we go and we have an amazing time and we go to a hotel room afterward and have sex for the first time and it's fucking perfect because we love each other and this is what lovers do. We graduate together. We do everything together for the rest of our lives and we break up a couple of times but it's okay because this is what lovers do. This is what normal people do. I am normal._

_Can you imagine that?_

_Would you still love me if I wasn't the freak that I am? If I changed?_

_Lie to me all you want, Jake, but I know you would._

_And maybe if I went away, you could find someone like that. Like me, if I were normal. If you found someone as plain as me, you'd be just as frustrated. You love me, but I know you're frustrated._

_When you do find that girl (because you're amazing and I know you will), you're welcome._

_Love, Bella._

*.*.*

I. Was. Fucking. Done.

But I needed more. I always needed more. I wouldn't be happy until the right things got done.

And my heart had broken, yet again. I knew it. I fucking knew it. Why did I even still deal with Bella Swan? She'd been right; I was frustrated. I was really fucking frustrated. Everything about this was so fucked up.

Innocence had been lost a long time ago, both for me and for her.

Youth wasn't supposed to know pain like this. This wasn't fair. And the pain was going at me straight to the heart.

At least I wasn't the Alpha; I was too much of a pussy to be the Alpha. Sam wouldn't be crying over a girl he hadn't imprinted on. Good fucking job to him for taking my place. Good fucking job to _me_ for not doing shit about it.

_Crap_, though; it was like I'd imprinted on her after she'd died. How was this even possible? I didn't want to believe it was. Sam would've told me, wouldn't he?

It was crazy how Bella'd had that big scenario mapped out, about her being normal. She'd been right, though. I would very much love her if she'd changed.

I was born to love Bella Swan. She'd been who I was supposed to love. I couldn't easily imagine myself with anyone else, and if she were to change, then _damn_. That'd suck. But I knew that there would still be some sense of the old Bella in there. I knew it. And that was it. I would love Bella Swan. I would always love her. This never-ending war in my mind would always be her fault, but I could live with that. I could live with this… this pain. It was hard, but I could live with it.

But I could I live without her? The actual person?

No.

Or could I?

It was now about a week since she'd died. I'd lived this long. But what would happen when I was done with these letters? I'd know her death was done and hopefully I'd finally understand her, but I would still be without her. And I didn't want to move on. I just didn't want to. At least, not so soon. I couldn't see any other girls these days. All the girls from school reminded me of Bella in the worse ways possible: the way they ran their hands through their hair; the way they called me Jake; the way they bit their lips in that sexy way that was close to Bella's, but never just like her. Nobody gave looks like how Bella had, besides Bella herself.

So hell no, I was not looking for a way to move on or find someone new. _Baby steps, Jake. Find out what happened and THEN try to move on._

Since I was going to hell, anyway, I couldn't help but pick up another letter: the one marked as March eleventh. I'd already cut myself to tiny bits and pieces; drenching bleach and pouring salt all over my cuts wouldn't do a thing to me now. Or so I'd thought.

Knowing Bella, she would always find a brand-new way to break my heart. Just when I'd thought things were bad, they could get worse. And with this letter, I was predicting that they would.

*.*.*

_Dear Jacob and Edward,_

_I'm really fucking scared. I really think I'm going to jump. I don't know when, but I still know it's going to happen somehow. And if I'm too much of a wimp to do it myself then I can ask Mike to push me. That'll be easy. A walk in the park compared to other ways._

_But I want to go back to happier times. Lately, I've been reminiscing, trying to recall some of the biggest parts of my life: meeting you two._

_Edward, when I first met you, I admit it, I hated you. I also hated myself for not understanding. I understand my mom and I understand my dad, but I couldn't get you. I still don't. But you're gorgeous. And you have a soul, even though you don't think you do. Just when I think that I've hit rock bottom and that nobody could possibly feel lower than me, there's you. Just when I think that I hate myself, you remind me that nobody hates themselves more than you do. That kind of kept me going. This isn't meant to be rude but, thank you. Thank you, Edward. Now THIS is meant to be rude: thank you for fucking up my life. You convinced me that I'm nothing. Not a person. Not a speck of sand. Nothing. You convinced me that I can't do anything on my own, and before I met you, I could. But now I realize the truth: I am not a person. I am not even a speck of sand. I am nothing. I can't do anything on my own. Do you think I'd think differently if I never met you? I think I would. So in a way, you really fucked things up for me, but then I realized, "He's half correct." You're too unhealthy for me. I love that about you, though. You're a god to me and you're a crazy monster at the same time. I want to have your power for a day and read your mind, just to see the similarities. We'd think exactly the same. I know you think I'm a goddess and a monster. I'm too good for you, but wait—I'm NOT good enough for you. We're too alike. We change our minds too often. We hate ourselves. And I love you. I don't know why, even as you've made me feel like nothing. Like I had nothing. No friends, no family. You took that all away from me, Edward. Did you ever really want me, or was the idea of taking things away from me more intriguing? Good luck telling me your answer; I won't be here to hear it. Look at me, though: I'm stronger. I'm fucking Mike trying to protect your ungrateful ass and putting a lot of shit on myself, but I'm not dead yet. You know I wouldn't be able to mouth you off in person. Am I stronger? Or just a strong writer? Would you read a book full of insults thrown at you, so you could finally get into my mind? Good luck answering those questions, too; I still won't be here to listen._

_Jacob, I love you. I. Love. You. You're my sunshine. In the beginning, I hated your little ways to make me feel better, and I hated your accidental mentions of Edward, because I'd expected perfection. But finally, I learned that you're not perfect. You are not programmed to say perfect things. And that is perfect for me, because I'm not programmed to say perfect things, either. I know you don't think I remember this, but I do. Making mudpies in your backyard when were little—too little to really even get love (but then again, who really does?)—always makes me happy. I remember these little kid adventures because that was when things made sense. You and me, we made sense. Do we make sense now? I don't know. When I started talking to you again, though, after Edward dumped me in the woods like garbage, I remember thinking, "Hell yeah, this guy is a gift from the gods." If there is one good thing I've done in my life, it's being friends with you. I'll never stop telling you how special you are. You are never going to lose yourself. At least, not for good. But when you do lose yourself, I know you're gonna find it in you to pick things up again. You're Jacob fucking Black. You know how to bounce back and keep trying when you fail. But then again, you never fail in the first place. Persistent is your middle name, Jake. Your determination annoys me but it makes me feel gratitude at the same time. Maybe it's just because I'm so NOT used to someone actually caring. Edward didn't care. He still doesn't. You care, though. And the simplicity between us makes me feel like I've known you all my life. I might as well have. (Who's Edward again?) Together, we're just Jake and Bells. Bells and Jake. No, "Jake and Bells" sounds better. Much better. I hate it when you call me Bella, because I know that's when you're trying to be serious. Who has time for seriousness? You make me crazy, and you make me wild. But not in the bad kind that I already am; you make me crazy and wild in the ways that I've always imagined. Carefree and young and dope. And proud. Proud to be young and carefree and crazy and wild and dope. You make me proud to be alive. If Mike and Edward didn't exist, I would be perfect. Absolutely perfect. But they always manages to bring me back down when I think of you. Mike's like Edward in that way; he has this pull on me. But I have a pull on you. Is that fair? No. Not even. You're more than worthy of me, but I will never, ever be good enough for you. Nobody is, and that's just life. You're just too great. You're Jacob fucking Black. And I love you. Always._

_Bella._

*.*.*

Suddenly, I was all warm again. Just like how I always was. Bella's ghost was gone, like she'd been waiting for me to finish those three letters the entire time. She was crafty. Just like in life.

That last letter had redeemed me, in a way. Gave me some kind of hope. I should have had it already.

I was Jacob fucking Black.

* * *

_**A/N: **No jaw-dropping cliffhangers as a chapter end this time, lol. So what did you think? Your feedback really, REALLY helps me. You guys knew that, right?_

_Take care, stay warm (for those in the Northern Hemisphere),_

_MTL. xo_


	7. Chapter Seven

_**A/N: **I'm still going, guys. I know this is a really quick update. (If you haven't read chapter six by now, STOP READING THIS AND GO BACK TO READ THAT CHAPTER. It's longer, but it's worth it. Try ignore the plentiful errors, though; I was in a rush to publish it). I promise. Anyway, this is chapter seven of Gods and Monsters. It's much shorter but it kind of takes the story into a different direction. Kind of. We only have about ten chapters left. Crazy, right? This is a short story, but it's still long for me because all I write are one-shots anyway. :p_

_Here is chapter seven. Enjoy! But if you didn't read chapter six, read it now. I'm serious._

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

I went a few days without reading any more letters; I just couldn't bring myself to pick them up again now that I knew how Bella had felt about me, and about Edward.

Fuck, she'd _loved_ me. She'd adored me. And more surprisingly, she'd hated Edward. Absolutely despised him. I remembered her telling me how she'd felt used by him, but that conversation hadn't lasted long, and she'd tried to make me forget what I'd heard, but it definitely wasn't what I'd read in the letter, that was for sure.

I'd never forgotten, and I would never forget those three letters I'd read Monday night, or the letters before. I would never forget Bella, for as long as I lived. That was already set in stone.

I hadn't given up yet, though. I hadn't given up on her and decided, _I'm going to kill myself because I won't fix anything, anyway_ or even the opposite: _I'm going to drop her and pretend like nothing ever happened._ I could forgive if it was enough, but I could never forget. I wouldn't let myself.

But I still went to school and tried to be okay. I wasn't forgetting about Bella, and I wasn't moving on, either. I was living through it. And even if I wanted to wake up and decide that I would be done with Bella, I couldn't. And that was because her ghost was _everywhere._

Bella's ghost (or was I supposed to just call her Bella?) must have been showing her obsession with me now simply because Bella herself couldn't have. The ghost loved to follow me around but also pop up in front of or behind me. I couldn't see her, but I could smell her and, oh, could I feel her. Her presence was so familiar to me it was like she was a living, breathing person. The only place she didn't stalk me to was school, though, and that reason alone was why I attended school every day that week. Even today, Friday. Nothing too exciting to thank God for, really. At least in the beginning.

The ghost really liked to play with me, though. She'd hide my things and then bring them back. She was just as apologetic as Bella had been, feeling sorry and bringing my stuff back to me without me even breaking a sweat trying to find them. The ghost would also turn water faucets on and off, flicker lights on and off, and sometimes blow out light bulbs and other things by accident. And one of those other things happened to be my alarm clock.

When I'd woken up on Friday morning, I'd woken up normally. Well, I was already kind of alert, so the "waking up" part wasn't too hard. But I'd woken up as normally as it could get. And of course, I was still tired, so I reached for the Snooze button. I was about to hit it when—

_Crack!_

The thing had exploded.

It had exploded just like the many light bulbs that had gone out in the same way, and it was just as broken. So beyond repair.

I was pretty sure that Bella's ghost had just karate chopped my alarm clock. It would have been cute if it wasn't so, you know, creepy, and if I hadn't almost had a heart attack. Sure, I could deal with werewolves and vampires, but ghosts causing things to explode right next to my face sort of drew the line.

I was thinking about Bella's quirky, weird actions in the middle of lunch that day—still Friday—and Embry had to hit me in the arm to get my attention again.

I snapped back into focus. "What?" I asked Embry.

He gestured across the lunch table at Quil and Seth, who both looked thoroughly annoyed. "Way to let me finish telling my story, Jake," Quil said.

"Who'd you fuck this time?" I asked in response. "Julie from down the street?"

"Hey, I'm still waiting for her and you said you wouldn't make jokes," he warned.

"Alright, alright," I said, giving up already. "What's your grand story?"

"It wasn't really a story," Seth pointed out. "It was more of a… plan."

"For what?" I asked.

"For Paul's party tonight," Embry replied. "What else?"

"Aren't we still trying to get the leech?" I demanded. "Why is Paul throwing a party when she's still in the area? Isn't she still in the area?"

"Wow, what an Alpha move," Seth muttered. _Jesus_, it was like the pack was trying to make me into a meme or something. And it wasn't like I knew what a meme was by myself; Embry knew all about those.

"Paul's been planning this party for ages, Jake," Embry said. "Since before the parasite was even on us. This is the one time his dad's gonna be away for a while. He'll be visiting his brother, and Paul told him he'll stay home."

"Well, it's certainly stupid to have the part _now_. What if the bloodsucker feeds on the whole town!?"

"Then we'll get her," Quil told me sharper. "I think it's about time we party a little, anyway. If anyone needs to wind down, it's you."

"I'm fine," I said quickly. "And all you guys do every Friday night is sit around and drink beer, anyway. Why should Paul have to call it a _party_ this time?"

Quil shook his head. "No, no, no, my man. You've got it all wrong. The difference is: there's gonna be _girls_ at this party."

"You make it sound like Leah's not a girl," Embry muttered. Wow. So now he was defending Leah's femininity? Had I really been that mentally absent in the past few days, dazed by the letters, to not notice?

Things were silent at the table. Silent enough to notice.

"Well, I mean _real_ girls," Quil said. "The ones that I can't read the mind of on a daily basis."

"It's not like you have much of a chance, anyway, Quil," I said. "Sorry to make your dreams come crashing down, but you _know_ Jared and Paul are gonna be all over the girls that even decide to show up."

He didn't even look the least bit sad. "You don't know that. I could have a chance."

I rolled my eyes. "Keep hoping. Get some beer into the girls' systems and they'll be all over Paul and Jared."

Seth made a face. "You're right."

Embry was about to say something, but two girls—the kinds of girls that I always saw around Paul and Jared, laughing at whatever the two assholes said—came up to our table. And this was big for Quil, Embry, and Seth. We were the nerd table. Well, sorta.

One girl, the less nervous-looking one whose name I was positive was Stacey, approached the end of the table where I was, "Sorry for interrupting," she began, her eyes going to all of us, "but are you guys talking about Paul's party? Paul Lahote's party? Tonight?"

Quil put on his, and I quote, "smile for the ladies" and he leaned back against his chair. "Yeah, we were. What about it?"

Stacey ran her hand through her hand (_almost like Bella had, oh my God_) and smiled. "Well, I was originally going to go with just a couple of friends, but some of my other friends came to visit, and to make a long story short, I wanna know if I can bring them to the party? Or should I be asking Paul this?"

"Oh, it's cool," Quil replied slyly. "I'm friends with Paul myself. Bring all your friends and more. Bring as many people as you can."

Stacey was beaming. "Oh, okay! Thanks." She and her friend walked back to their lunch table full of their friends, gushing with the news.

"You're such a fucking idiot," I told Quil.

"What!?" he demanded. "I just wanted to get more guests."

"Yeah, and watch how the entire reservation's gonna be there. I'll bet you Paul's house'll burn down. I knew I shouldn't have taken you to see that dumb _Project X _movie opening weekend."

"Hey, it wasn't a bad movie!" Quil protested. "And that couldn't even happen here. Those kids were rich and they lived in California."

"Okay, whatever," I said, defeated. "But nobody's gonna show up."

"_Everybody_'s gonna show up," Seth replied.

"Yeah," Quil said, taking a bite into his sandwich. He chewed for a little bit. "So suck my dick," he added.

* * *

Quil was right. Everybody showed up at the party. _Everybody._

Everybody over the age of thirteen was there. Even some people that I didn't even know. People that weren't even from the rez. I wouldn't be surprised if people from Forks High School were there, too. They knew how the Quileute teens partied most of the time. As of now, they had to be the life of the party, because the party host and his fellow pack were out in the woods right by Paul's house. This meeting wasn't that serious; we were still our normal, two-legged selves. But at the same time, it was big. Intense, too.

And it really got under my skin.

"The red-headed vampire was found and burned to ashes last night," Sam announced. "I just found her right outside of Forks. I think the killer left the ashes there purposely so we'd know that she's now taken care of."

"So another vamp killed her?" Seth asked.

Sam nodded. "I guess they made it easy for us."

"That's not their job, though," I piped up. "_We_ were supposed to get her. Who said that the vamp that got her isn't a threat?"

"They're not a threat," Sam told me. "I know it."

"And how?" I demanded. "How do you know that they're not against us, though? Just because they killed another bloodsucker doesn't mean that they're on _our_ side."

"Who cares, Jake?" Paul asked me bitter. "Who really gives a fuck? Whoever killed the leech just made our job easier. Lighten up." That set me off.

"Ease up, Paul," Embry said. "Jake's got a point."

"He has no point," Jared objected.

"Well, what are you gonna do, Sam?" I asked, staring at the Alpha right in the eyes.

"We're going to leave it alone," he said calmly. "We'll let this one pass."

"I say we should actually try to figure out—"

"No," he interrupted me. "_I _say. We are not going to find them tonight. We're not going to find them unless we have to."

"But don't we have to? Aren't we supposed to be protecting the tribe?" I questioned. "Isn't that what you're supposed to tell us to do, as Alpha?"

"The tribe is not in danger right now," he told me. "And don't question me as Alpha."

"But it _could_ be in danger."

"Well, it's not. You can go home, Jacob, but you should at least let us all relax. This is not about you."

That set me off even more. I was about ready to explode. "I didn't lose everything to relax, Sam! If this was about relaxing, I wouldn't have—"

He looked at me with hate in his eyes. Wasn't surprising. "No, Jacob." And those words were a commandment.

Nobody could refuse the Alpha's orders. Not even me.

* * *

As pissed as I was, I didn't go home. I didn't need Bella's ghost following me around, reminding me of her, hurting me inside with every whisper and every movement.

I needed a real-life girl right now. Just for a little bit. Anybody to make me feel less lonely.

I spent a lot of time in the kitchen, eating the dwindling food and drinking the seemingly endless beer. Every ten minutes people came back with more beer. I finally got why people were alcoholics now. I'd used to think it was just because; I knew now that it was because people needed to tune out their sorrows. And with the number of sorrows I had, I'd have to drink up a tsunami. I didn't want to become an alcoholic—that was too common on the rez and it'd just make me look like an example of a racist cartoon—but that was this might come to.

No matter how much I drank, though, all those girls wouldn't turn into Bella. They still looked like the girls that I didn't care about at all, just a little blurrier. Was this a perk (or a curse) to being a werewolf? That I couldn't get drunk? And not just drunk, but so hammered that I wouldn't remember what happened, or where I was, or who I was?

Fuck.

I ended up in the bathroom, but that was only after waiting for a couple to get out of it to escape their sexcapades. The party was already going to teenage hormone-fueled crap, and it hadn't even been longer than an hour and a half.

As I sat in the dry bathtub of that disgusting bathroom, I wanted to think. I wanted to think about my issues and the issues of the world and then back to my issues because I was a selfish dick and why God had chosen me to have all this shit happen to. I hadn't been a bad kid before I'd phased. I'd been crafty and funny and I'd gone to school and I'd had friends and everything. Girls had had crushes on me, too. And I'd been only thinking of Bella. I was pretty sure that was where my problems had started.

But still. Why me? Why _me_ of all people? God had already taken away my mother (_too early, too early, way too early_) and both of my sisters (_I hadn't been ready for them to leave me and I still wasn't and I needed them _back) and my father's ability to walk (_no, no, no, diabetes shouldn't have done this to him)_. He'd taken away my best friend. The reason why I was (had been?) so persistent.

And the Man was taking my soul away, too, slowly and surely.

_Bella, honey, you were wrong. My soul has been taken away._

Soon enough, I was crying. The hot, stupid, unnecessary tears were streaming down my face. I was such a pussy. Such a fucking wuss. I couldn't be the rightful Alpha; I just couldn't be. Alphas didn't cry. Alphas did not fucking cry. And here I was. There was some really fucked up shit in my family tree, because I didn't belong there.

I had to be an ugly crier. I sat there for minutes on end. And I had to be even uglier when I was interrupted, because someone had entered the bathroom.

Leah, of all people. "Oh, hey, Jake," she said, her voice soft. Her face, usually harsh and dramatic and severe, and her hair even looked softer. Had she been drinking? She looked too calm and too chill.

I quickly wiped my face, trying to hide the evidence of my weakness. "You can go to the bathroom if you want," I told her. "I'll get out."

"No, I was looking for you," she insisted. She walked to the bathtub. "You mind?"

I folded my legs closer to me. "Hop on in."

She got into the tub and tried to give me as much room as possible. "Hey, don't strain yourself," I told her. "I'll make room." I awkwardly scooted around, trying to make room and failing.

"It's fine," she said. "Are you okay?"

"I'm dandy," I replied, really not trying to sound rude. "Just crying my guts out. You?"

"I'm a little bored," she admitted. "Or I was. Embry and I started debating on something but when it was over I got kind of… lost."

"Since when are you and Embry healthy debate buddies?" I asked her.

She shrugged. "I don't know. Since we've been going to school on a regular basis? I'm so glad we're on the off-season?"

"You refer to them as seasons, too? I mean, with finding the vamps and all."

She nodded. "Yeah. It's easier that way. I just wish I were normal."

I sighed. "Don't we all?"

"Yeah, it's like… I just wanna be able to live freely, you know? If I wanna do a sport or something, they should let me do a sport and not end up finding something freaky going on with my body."

"I know how you feel." I nodded.

"It's the same with college," she continued. "I shouldn't have to be stuck here, never going out and getting an education and _doing_ something with myself, but I am."

"Please don't go on an education rampage," I said. "Embry already does."

She smiled. "Not tonight."

"Promise?"

"Promise." She stuck out her pinkie. "Wanna make it official?"

I hooked my pinkie onto hers. "Yes."

We held our pinkies together for a while there, and I came to the realization that I might just like Leah Clearwater. It was possible. Pretty much anything was possible now.

She pulled her pinkie away sort of awkwardly and sat back against the tub and sighed. "This party sucks," she stated bluntly.

"I know, right? I'd rather watch a movie or something."

"So would I." Then her face lit up. "If we go now, we might be able to catch the late showing of _21 Jump Street_ in Port Angeles or something."

I'd wanted to see that movie since Bella had first told me about it, way before it came out. That movie was gonna be a no now, though. I just… couldn't. I couldn't at all.

"I—I don't know, Leah," I stammered. "Just not tonight. Sorry."

She looked a little hurt, but she nodded. "Okay, Jake. Sorry."

"No, don't be sorry," I said. "You didn't do anything wrong."

She nodded again. "Whatever. It's fine, it's fine," she said quickly, standing up and getting out of the bathtub. "I'm just gonna go home. It's kinda late."

"It's Friday," I pointed out, still sitting in the tub.

"I'm reading a good book," she replied, shrugging her shoulders. Before she left the bathroom, she turned around and looked at me. "I'm just trying to be friends, Jake," she said. "Let me know when you're ready. And you really should step up and become Alpha. It'd help—a lot."

Then she swung open the bathroom door and slammed it shut on her way out. I leaned back against the tub and sighed.

Was I even ready for another girl friends (_no, not a girlfriend, definitely not a girlfriend_) yet?

The answer was blatantly obvious: no. I wasn't ready for any type of close relationships that were with anyone of the female gender. And was I ready to be Alpha? Hell no.

But how long would Leah wait for me?

* * *

_**A/N: **No, this is not a Blackwater story. It's a Jacob one. I only added Bella in there because I knew that no one would read this if it was just Jacob, because they'd assume I put myself or some other OC in. But this is still a kind of Jella story. Only half of the ship is dead. Okay? Okay._

_Aside from some clarifying, that was it. Chapter seven. (Spoiler alert: things don't get really complicated until chapter nine but I'll try to make chapter eight work.) So what did you think?_

_I'll be updating soon,_

_MTL. xo_


	8. Chapter Eight

_**A/N: **Aaaand, I've updated. I'll be updating more sporadically. This chapter of Gods and Monsters is kind of topsy-turvy. I should have split it into two smaller chapters, but I didn't. This chapter isn't going to be as explosive as the next one, which is good. Well, explosive for me. Anyway, here is the eighth chapter of Gods and Monsters._

_**But with special thanks to: **my readers and reviewers, especially presidentofteamjacob and Master Gaga. I love you two so much. You guys keep me going with your feedback. I'll never be able to express just how thankful I am._

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

There's something about girls that you should be friends with it. Girls that you're _supposed_ to be friends with. But what if you don't want to be friends with them, because you're _afraid_ of being friends with them?

I wasn't afraid of Leah Clearwater. Okay, she was a wolf. So was I. And so she had an explosive temper, but so did Paul, and I could deal with him just fine.

But was I afraid of being friends with Leah Clearwater? Hell yeah. I knew that once we'd be friends she'd try to get closer. She wasn't a person that was strictly about friendship. She was one of those people that wanted to help people and be not friends, but _best friends_. Or she'd _been_ one of those people; it was hard to determine how she was now, because she'd been like this since Sam imprinted on Emily, her cousin.

Well, there had been some change in Leah. There really had. She hadn't gone off on me in the bathtub episode. That was good. That was great.

But I was not looking for a new best friend. Nope. Not now. Not in a week or a month or a year. I could deal without a new best friend.

A war was buzzing through my mind right now. I needed to think. I needed to clear my head. I was going crazy, and I hated feeling like I was fucking crazy. It was frequent for me, but it wasn't good.

I finally got out of that bathtub, and headed out of the party. It was an ugly mess already. Jesus. No wonder why natives got such a bad rep.

I exited the party and felt the cool, spring breeze of the night. I was alone, and for one of the first times since Bella left me, being alone felt good. I should have just ran away. The open road was calling my name. I was clearing my head already. About fucking time.

But then I knew that I needed to clear something else.

I remembered the hurt on Leah's face from me rejecting her offer. She'd basically asked me out on a date and I'd told her no because she wasn't Bella and I wasn't looking for a best friend or a girlfriend or anything.

I'd been right; Leah was sure as hell not Bella and I sure as hell wasn't looking for a best friend or a girlfriend or anything.

But who was to say that I couldn't go to one movie with Leah? One little movie wouldn't kill anyone. If I was lucky, she'd realize that I was a loser, and then she'd drop me. Good.

I turned around and headed back to the party. I found Leah sitting on the couch talking to Embry.

"Guess who decided to come back," Embry said, looking up at me. "What's up, Jake?"

I took a deep breath. "Do you guys wanna go see _21 Jump Street_?"

Leah's face lit up.

"I heard that movie's good," Embry said. He turned to Leah. "What do you say?"

Still looking at me, Leah replied with, "I say, hell yeah!"

* * *

_I am so fucked_, I thought to myself as I drove Embry, Leah, and I to the movie theater. I didn't really like three-person movie dates. But I was on the other side now, I guessed. Leah and Embry were the happy friends and I was the awkward third wheel that nobody wanted to talk to.

God. No. I shouldn't be drawing these parallels. This was so weird. I just turned up the radio and kept driving. I didn't do too well with music, either, all because of someone who hadn't even liked music.

I understood now. I was a little too late (_always, always, always a little too late_), but I understood perfectly.

Leah and Embry didn't notice, though; they were psyched. According to Embry, the movie's plot was hilarious; according to Leah, Channing Tatum was hot. If I pretended to be even a little excited, we would all be happy campers.

This wasn't like me. Not at all. I'd never been focused on pleasing people; I'd used to do what _I_ had thought felt right. I didn't want best friends now. I didn't even want to see the damn movie, but here I was later in Port Angeles, paying for three tickets to the eleven-thirty showing of _21 Jump Street_.

Whatever. I was going to rot, anyway. I could shoot myself in the foot a couple of times, since there was no way I could get anyone in the pack to kill me. At least not now, even skating around Sam's obvious rage to my "Alpha moves."

I inadvertently laughed to myself at the thought of Sam trying to take me on. At least I laughed during a funny part of the movie, even as I was in my own thoughts.

* * *

_This "friend" thing really isn't working out_, I thought on the way back from the movies. _I don't need friends. I didn't need anything. I don't even have anything. Forget friends._

I wasn't sure if I was jealous or I was happy that they were ignoring me, but Leah and Embry had had a good fucking time. On the ride back they just kept talking about how great the movie was. I hadn't even paid attention to the movie, but they had been paying attention to me, and they still were.

"Hey, Jake, you okay?" Embry asked from the back seat. "You're not saying anything."

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said.

"Are you glad you went with us instead of staying at that lame-ass party or going home?"

I sighed and continued down the highway. "As grateful as can be."

"Thanks for taking us," Leah told me as she sat in the passenger seat. "It was great, and I know you didn't wanna go, but thank you."

"Hey, if I didn't wanna go, I wouldn't have gone," I disagreed weakly. _Then again, we can't all avoid things we don't wanna do. I know this already. _"You're welcome, though," I added.

Embry sighed. "I'm tired as fuck."

"That's a first, Emb," Leah told him. "You're usually up all night."

"That's what the girls tell me," he joked. "Really, though, I think it's the beer, even though it's been hours."

"Or the fact that it has to be about two in the morning," Leah replied. "Jake, do you know what time it is?"

"Nope," I said simply. "Who wants to get dropped off first?"

"Just drop us off at my house," Embry told me. "Are you cool with that, Lee?"

"Yeah, I'm just gonna crash on your couch, anyway," she said.

_Ooookay. They're definitely fucking tonight. Forget friends._

Once I was in La Push, I dropped Leah and Embry off at the latter wolf's place (learned the word "latter" from Bella) and started driving down the road to my own house. If only I could've managed to not catch Embry kissing Leah right outside his front door. Great.

Forget friends.

When I walked into my house, it was dark—way dark—and quiet. And for once, it scared me. It wasn't that scary, but I was still a little spooked.

Oh, and a pot fell. Or was it a pan? A plate? All three? Whichever way, something fell in the kitchen, and not on purpose. That didn't scare me so much. Just a little.

But when I turned on the light in the kitchen, nothing was there. No pots or pans or plates out. Nothing. It was like the kitchen hadn't been touched.

_That_ scared me more than anything else.

But, oh shit, was the ghost done? No. Not even close. As I walked to my room, I heard more dishes clattering around. I would turn around, and then there would be nothing. I half-expected to be hit by something in the back, but I reminded myself that Bella's ghost wouldn't hurt me. She was as regretful as Bella had been, and Bella had hurt me more than enough in life. I made my way into my bedroom.

Once the dishes stopped clattering and banging around in the kitchen, I tried to turn my lamp on in my room, and Bella made the newly placed light bulb in my lamp explode. This time, it was on purpose.

"Dammit, Bella," I muttered, yanking my hand away as quick as I could, avoiding the pain. "I'm not rich, you know. I don't have an unlimited supply of light bulbs." In the dark, I reached for the half-empty box of light bulbs that I kept on my nightstand, but—

_Pop. Pop. Pop._

"What the fuck!?"

The ghost (because was she ever really Bella?) had just managed to light up each of the bulbs and make them explode, promptly cutting my hands and fingers because of all the flying glass. She didn't even need to collect electricity or energy or anything. She was full of it.

And right now, she was livid. I could tell.

She'd never been angry with me. I mean, the ghost hadn't. She'd never tried to physically hurt me or anything until now. I wasn't that hurt—just a little blood from the cuts of the glass. I was healing already; I could feel it.

But _holy shit_. What had I even done? I hadn't said anything bad about Bella today, or ever, and now she'd just blown some fucking light bulbs right in my hands! I hadn't done a thing to her.

Or… or was this about…?

In the darkness, I surrendered and put my face into my fully healed hands. The ghost didn't touch me, but I could feel the breeze right in front of me. I could imagine her looking down on me, disappointed.

I sighed and even though I knew she couldn't response verbally, I had to ask, "This is about Leah, huh?"

And not an object was thrown or forced to explode. So I'd been right. I'd also been wrong at the same time for trying to be friends with Leah.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way, honey."

A cool breeze brushed over me. She was forgiving me. She had to be.

If Bella didn't want me to move on so soon, then that was what I was going to do. I would have to. No moving on for me. The ghost had just purposely tried to hurt me, as simply as making light bulbs explode. I was convinced that she could find a way to burn me alive.

I didn't have to move on now, or ever, as long as the ghost was here. From what it looked like, Leah had Embry. Embry had Leah, too. I was cool with that, as weird as it was. Bella could have me as long as she needed me. As long as I kept reminding myself that I was eventually going to rot, I was okay with this. I could tie myself to her. Wasn't that what I was born to do? Obey her? Hadn't I been doing this when she was alive? This wouldn't be any different.

_Bring on the ball and chain._

* * *

To keep things simple, I woke up feeling like shit the next morning. I wasn't sick—I never got sick. I wasn't worried—I had nothing to be worried about since everything had gone to crap, anyway, with losing a potential friend and an already best friend at the same time, on the same night. I didn't get it.

Maybe I just needed to talk to somebody. No, not a female friend—those weren't allowed with Bella the Less-Than-Friendly Ghost. No, not Embry, either—wouldn't want to interrupt him and Leah. And no, not Quil—I would "ruin his moment" by butting into his sexual fantasies. Or what if he'd gotten lucky last night? I was sure he'd want to tell someone. Seth wouldn't wanna hear it. I'd be the victim.

I had way too much time on my hands, making up these scenarios.

Forget friends.

I wanted to talk to Rachel instead. She was my own blood. Bella couldn't get mad. Well, she could, but I was hoping she wouldn't. And besides, calling Rachel would make me happy. However, at this point, I wasn't sure if Bella wanted me to be happy or wanted me to belong to her. Did she now think that they meant the same thing? I'd certainly used to think that. Does that happen when people die, though? Do they lose their sense of self for a little bit, but eventually reclaim it once they're away from their past? Maybe this was holding Bella back. She was stuck here in La Push. I wonder if she haunted Charlie. Then again, she didn't have to be mad at him. He wasn't moving on as swiftly as I had tried to. More importantly, he hadn't been _this fucking close_ to saving her, but failed. Hopefully, Charlie would get some peace. He might find that in Billy. I'd heard their friendship had started falling. Sue couldn't be in any sort of picture with Charlie; she was stuck catering to and trying not to freak out over her husband, who had just had a nearly fatal heart attack that scared her to death. I just didn't know about Charlie. I just knew that as much as Bella wanted me to belong to her, she didn't belong here. If I were dead, I would _hate_ to be stuck in La Push.

Yeah, I had too much time. Way, way, way too much time. Rachel would laugh at me. That is, if I could just call her already.

I managed to find her cell phone number in the back of the book of numbers by the telephone. Nothing was ever in order in that book. Rachel must've put hers in the back when she'd left for college, which was a few years ago. I wasn't sure how many, and I didn't care; she'd still left me. I was pretty sure she would be graduating from the University of Washington this year, an entire year early. Wow. She was such an overachiever.

It was Saturday, so I could count on her being busy at work or something, but it was still early. I hoped and hoped that she would pick up. She was the only sane person around me anymore and I missed her like crazy.

The phone had been ringing for what felt like forever when an alert voice—too alert for seven in the morning—answered. "Hello?"

"Hey, Rach," I said.

She was silent.

_Oh man, what if she forgot about me!?_ "It's Jake," I added.

"Jacob, of course I know it's you!" she said, her voice ecstatic.

"Then why didn't you say anything?" I asked.

"I just missed you so much, that's all. It's been a while. Are you okay?" She sounded genuinely concerned about me, much to my surprise.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I replied. "Why?"

"Well, Dad told me about something that recently happened."

"Oh." Of course.

"I mean, I get your pain. I used to be friends with her, too, when me and Becca were little."

"I know."

"You dealing with it okay, Jake?"

She really needed to stop pressing me on all this shit. It was getting to be a little too much. As much as she told herself how much she knew me, it still felt like she didn't. I sighed. "Yeah, it's cool. Can we not talk about her?"

"Man, I wish I could visit you. I mean, I really wouldn't wanna go to La Push but I'd do it for you."

Wow. Rachel, my own sister, would visit me if I was really in a lot of pain. She would visit La Push for the first time in years, always skipping Christmases and Thanksgivings because of school and work, but really because our mother had died in La Push and she couldn't stand to be here anymore. I didn't blame her. I would have left, too, if my dad would let me. But he'd wanted to stay and let me have a steady life. Of course. I was glad and pissed at the same time that we hadn't moved, too. If we'd moved, I wouldn't have gotten close with Bella, but I also wouldn't have to deal with the pain that I'd received from her.

But now that I thought about it, I would take the pain everyday—every hour, every minute, and every second—just to remind myself that she'd been real and alive and breathing and that our little _Jake and Bells_ fantasy had been real, too. The pain reminded me that the hundreds of conversations we'd shared had been real. And the hundreds of times she'd handed me a tool to put to work at the bikes had been real, too. And the hundreds of times I'd seen her in that cotton blue jacket, and the hundreds of times that she'd ran her hand through her hair out of her adorable awkwardness, and the hundreds of times that she'd called me Jake instead of Jacob. All of that had been real.

And, of course, the hundreds of times that I'd wanted to kiss her had been real. I'd wanted to kiss her so bad. Finally show her how crazy I'd been (or still was?) about her. Put her hands at her hips and bring her close to me and just kiss her for hours. The world would stop spinning and it'd just be us. Living the _Jake and Bells_ dream that had been real for only a short time. Bella had been right; _Jacob and Bella_ sounded too serious. _Jake and Bells_ was just right. Perfect. We'd been so right. Perfect for each other. I'd wanted to show her that with a kiss. Or two. Or five thousand. As many as I could get. The _Jake and Bells_ fantasy sounded like paradise to me. But here I was, only half of the fantasy. There's no _Jake and Bells_ without the Bells part. I was just a living, breathing half of the dream that had dashed away as soon as Bella had. The pain that Bella had given me had also been inflicted by myself. But they were still reminders. Bittersweet reminders that she—that _us_ together—had been real. Vivid and intense and genuine and authentic and _real_.

"Jake?" Rachel asked. "Jacob? You still there?"

Before I could tell her that I was, in fact, still on the line, she hung up. _Click._

I wondered how long she'd waited.

* * *

_Will Bella the Scary-Ass Ghost get pissed if I play video games?_

That was the question of the day. I was bored. Beyond bored. I'd used to love Saturdays. I hated them now. I was skating on thin ice hoping that I wouldn't piss off the ghost and have more things explode in my face.

I wanted to play video games. I hadn't played in forever. I needed to play. I couldn't shoot myself (well, I could if I was crafty enough to find someone willing to give me a gun) so I might as well just shoot up a bunch of people in a video game and get points for it. And I knew just the person to play with.

Even though I knew Jared probably wouldn't be up this early, I walked down the road to his house, with my copy of _Call of Duty: Black Ops_ for the Xbox 360 in my hand. I remembered him telling me he'd lost his own copy.

I knocked on his front door, and he answered almost immediately. Damn, everyone was too alert for a Saturday morning.

"You must need _Black Ops_ therapy, man," Jared insisted.

"How'd you know?" I asked as I walked into his house.

"You look like it. Come on in."

I handed Jared the game and plopped down on his couch. He didn't ask how I was or anything as he put the game in the Xbox. I liked that about him. He didn't give a shit about my feelings because he knew that anything he'd say wouldn't help. He lived in the present and he didn't try to change or question the past.

"How was the party last night?" I asked easily as he set up the match and we waited for it to load.

"Stupid as fuck," Jared replied. "Nothing special. Paul wouldn't know a good party even if he fell over it."

"I knew it," I said. "Did anything interesting happen?"

"I don't know. What do you mean?"

With my eyes still focused on the small television scene, I clarified, "Did anything happen with Embry and Leah?"

"Oh. Them."

_Oh, God. _"Tell me, Jared. I mean, I saw them kissing last night and I didn't know what the hell was going on."

"Man, Jake, there was some drama afterward. You should've been there. A lot of us went back to Embry's place. I don't even know why. Embry tried to kiss Leah, but she didn't take it well. She didn't like it at all. She got all pissed. I can't see why, though. Embry's the only person that would wanna kiss her, anyway. She should be happy."

"She was mad that he kissed her!?" I asked, on the verge of hysteria.

"Yeah. I don't know why you're so surprised, Jake. She's always mad."

_Fuck. And I thought that Leah would be happy at ANYONE wanting her._

"That sucks," I said.

"For Embry? I know. Now stop getting killed, or we're gonna lose and I'll have to kick you out."

* * *

We played all fucking day. Match after match after match. When we got sick of the matches, we played mission after mission after mission. We beat the game one and a half times that day on the hardest difficulty, and when I left, my eyes strained, it was dark out.

As I swung open the front door to leave, I managed to bump into Kim, the girl next door who really liked Jared. He never paid much attention to her, though. He hadn't even known that she'd been out of town forever, even since before he phased.

"Is Jared here?" Kim asked me.

I nodded and turned to Jared, who was still in his living room, but frozen. Totally paused.

And he was staring at Kim like she'd hung the moon herself.

Jared had imprinted on Kim, right there.

Kim obviously didn't know that, but she knew that this was a totally awkward moment. She laughed nervously. "Um, Jared, they got our mail mixed up again. So, uh, here you go." She held the mail out to Jared, but he didn't move. Not at all.

I left before I could see what would happen next. Imprinting was a fucking curse.

It might save me someday, though.

* * *

I was bored again that night, so I reached under my bed for the box of letters. _Hello, heaven_, I thought glumly.

This was becoming a routine for me: try to do something, fail, read the letters, and be haunted by the ghost. If I had a dollar for how many times I wished none of this ever happened, I would have enough money to get the obvious therapy I would need when I was through with this, if I would ever be through with this. I liked to think that if I just finished the letters already, the ghost would go away, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that she wouldn't be gone until she got what she wanted.

And I didn't know what she wanted, so I was pretty much screwed over.

I grabbed the letter from March twelfth and sat on my bed. I was on my last light bulb—I'd found it somewhere in my garage—and I couldn't piss off Bella unless I wanted to read in darkness and scare myself to death, completing her job myself.

I unfolded the letter and looked down at it, feeling the ghost sitting next to me.

*.*.*

_Dear Jacob and Edward,_

_I am 100% done with everything. I'm pissed and I'm sad and I'm ready to go to the cliffs. But at the same time, I feel numb. I don't even know why._

_I'm definitely going to the cliffs tomorrow, though. I'll go early in the morning. I know we were going to go together sometime, Jake, but I'm sorry. I'm gonna go by myself. I hope you don't wait for me. I hope you don't find me._

_Mike and I got into a fight yesterday. We never agree on anything. Ever. But this was bad. He threatened to tell everyone what he knows and tell everyone what I've been doing and even show our memories. He was so mad at me. I think he still is. He even threatened to kill me himself. It would be easier for him. It would be easier for me, too, just to have him kill me. Living like this and having the risk of people finding out that I'm living like this is too much. It's way too much. And Mike's torturing me with his power and knowledge. We both know that he won't singlehandedly kill me. He uses me and threatens me and has all these things that can make my entire world fall apart, but he won't just kill me. Shove me off a cliff like he joked back on his birthday a couple of weeks ago. Run me over like he joked last night, before we started fighting. If he killed me, it would put the obvious blame on him. He'd want my death to look like a suicide, and he could get out clean._

_He's going to get what he wants tomorrow, because I'm not going to change my mind._

_It's going to be easy. Get to cliff, close my eyes, spread my wings out into the dark. (Cheesy Britney Spears line, I'm sorry.) And fall. Just let myself fall. Edward wants me to be human. Humans make mistakes. Humans kill themselves. I'm going to be human. Jacob wants me to be happy and healthy. Too late. I wanna kiss Jacob hard before I go. Maybe just once. But that's not going to happen._

_Things are going to end up just like I thought they would. I am fucking crazy, but I am going to be free._

_Bella._

*.*.*

That letter was way too short. Too compressed. Shattered my heart. Bella knew how to do that, for sure.

I wanted a time machine. I wanted one _so bad._ Just to go back and convince her that I loved her and that Charlie loved her and we could find a way to get better.

But would she get better? I doubted it.

Bella had been sick of the pain and sick of the lies. She'd wanted to be free, but she wasn't free now. Death hadn't been all that worth it. Her ghost was still lurking around her past.

I tried to imagine how things would be if she'd told me that she'd loved me and if she'd told me about Mike. I would have smashed Mike's brains in and Bella and I would be together. She wouldn't be better, and I would be better only a little better if the pack wasn't involved, but Bella and I would be two fucked up souls together.

Man, I would have loved to save her from herself. Even as life for her had been miserable, she'd had things to live for. Tons of them. She just hadn't been able to see that.

But what were you supposed to do when the person you loved the most had been killing herself and letting another person kill her at the same time? Could I have brought myself down to her level? Bringing her up again would have been harder, and even more useless.

What were you supposed to do when the person you loved the most had been demolished beyond repair?

Maybe Bella being dead now was better than making myself think of all the things I would have failed at if she was still alive.

I was losing my mind, if it wasn't obvious enough. I was confused and hurt and everything just sucked.

I was just like Bella; I was fucking crazy, but I wanted to be free.

* * *

_**A/N: **Phew. That was chapter eight. Prepare your body for the next chapter; I know I'll be preparing mine._

_BUT I have an honest question:_

_What do you think of all the ghost stuff? Be honest. (The creepy thing's never mentioned in the reviews. Lol.)_

_Take care, survive the hellish preparation for the holidays, and stay warm for those in the Northern Hemisphere,_

_MTL. xoxo_


	9. Chapter Nine

_**A/N: **Yo. I've updated yet again. This was the topsy-turvy chapter that I was hoping you guys would like. I also hope you'll like the one after this. And the next. Lol. And all the ones after that. Anyway, here it is! Thanks so much to my lovely readers. You guys keep me fighting hard. Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

The next day went way differently than I'd thought it would. It was just a Sunday. March twenty-fifth. A week since the funeral. Damn. Just a week?

I'd used to think that I loved Sundays, but then I'd realized that I didn't. Nobody in the pack wanted to do anything, and I was losing my mind. Seth and Leah (wait, no, she wasn't allowed to be in my life, unless I wanted light bulbs and whatnot to explode and hurt me) and Embry were all about school and education and shit now. Embry must've preached onto Seth, too. Paul and Jared tended to flirt with anyone of the female gender over the age of thirteen. Well, Jared wouldn't anymore, with his recent imprinting on Kim. Quil was starting to hang around Paul a bit more; apparently he'd been hanging with him since before the party, too. Great. Sam wouldn't want to be around me, and I wouldn't want to be around him.

I really didn't like Sundays.

Okay, so it wasn't like there was _nothing_ to do. I was exaggerating. There was plenty to do. Tag along on a fishing trip with my dad and Harry, go down to the junkyard and find something to restore… Hell, I could even go to church. If anyone needed Jesus, it was me. I just needed to keep myself occupied. I didn't have to be happy, but being busy sounded okay. I couldn't believe I was halfway pep-talking myself.

When I thought about the fishing trip a little more, I wondered if Charlie would go. How was Charlie even holding up? I wanted to know. The guy was probably losing his mind more than I was losing mine. We could sit around together and talk about her. Have a mini-funeral, but humorous. Almost two weeks had passed since the day she left; was it okay now to talk about her light-heartedly yet and not just mope about how much we missed her?

I drove the Rabbit to Charlie's house and when he answered the door, he looked okay. Kinda. Was it possible for someone to look fat and skinny at the same time? He was kinda chubby—probably from fast food or something—but his face was thin, too. Huh.

"Hey, Charlie," I said.

"What do you want, Jake?" he asked me, obviously trying to put on the impression that he was okay. _Healthy as a horse_, as he would put it.

"I want company. Don't you?"

* * *

It turned out, Charlie did want company. We spent the day watching NBA games, yelling and cheering and laughing and eating like nothing was wrong. Perfect.

Sometime in the evening we took the basketball game celebration to my own house, and Billy was more than willing to take part in it. Harry and Sue, too. Good to see that Harry's heart attack had managed to bring them even closer.

_Who needs fucked up friends when you have their human, less fucked up parents around? _I thought._ They cook better food. They make better jokes. I should've been born an old person. Who needs friends their own age? Not me._

I was still eating some of the best fish ever, cooked by Harry, when there was a knock on the front door and—because I was an idiot—I got up to answer it. It was Seth, and he looked sad. _Oh God._

"What's up, Seth?" I greeted him.

"Are you sure Emily can't phase?" he asked, his eyes wide and his voice quiet.

"What are you even talking about? Is she okay?"

"I don't think so. I think she's gonna tear Quil apart."

I immediately went out the door and started slipping off my clothes. If Quil had really fucked up, and nobody had gotten it under control yet, then shit had to be bad.

When I phased, I felt an exhilarating rush. It'd been forever since I'd last phased, it seemed. I almost missed it.

_Where are they? _I thought to Seth.

_Em's place_, he replied. _Oh, God, Emily's gonna kill him…._

I approached Emily and Sam's house in almost no time, and once I phased back, I went into the kitchen, where the entire pack was, and a fucking Mexican standoff was basically happening.

"I cannot believe you, Quil! Why _her_!?" Emily, Sam's imprint and fiancée, said. Quil was leaning back against the counter, and he looked pretty ashamed of himself.

"Calm down, babe," Sam told her. "Everything will be alright."

"What happened?" I asked everyone.

"Quil imprinted," Leah said.

"Okay, so another person imprinted," I stated. "What's the big deal?"

"He imprinted on Claire, Emily's niece," Paul said disgustedly. "She's two."

"She's _two years old_!" Emily repeated, basically screaming at Quil. "That's so wrong!"

"You're one to talk about something being wrong, Emily," Embry piped up. "Sam was dating your own cousin and then he imprinted on _you_."

"Don't go there, Embry," Leah said, her head low. "It's not worth it."

"Really, don't," Sam told Leah. "This isn't Quil's fault, and that wasn't my fault, either. Get over it."

"But she's two years old," Jared said. "That's still weird as hell."

"Yeah, thanks for the reminder," Emily said bitterly.

"Look, Em, I'm sorry," Quil told her, his arms crossed, "but I didn't choose this. You already know. And it's not like that. It's not going to be like that."

"For a while," Jared added.

Emily sighed, and I was getting even more freaked out by the second. Emily was never one to complain; she just went with everything. She was so dedicated to being a "wolf girl." Yet she couldn't understand _this_? Sure, it was weird and people on the rez would look at it strangely, but couldn't Emily accept this? She could have been in the pack herself; she was that close. She, of all people, should have understood.

"Great, so I have two things to worry about," she said, putting herself as the center of attention yet again. Were her true colors finally coming out? I mean, yeah, we all loved and appreciated Emily but this was annoying as fuck. I felt a little bad for Leah.

And speaking of Leah, she managed to burst out something that had to have been all bottled up. "You getting knocked up isn't anybody's fault but yours, Emily!" she exploded, stepping forward. "Don't bitch about you having a bad day, because we've certainly had worse days than you could ever _dream_ of!"

Everybody was silent. Fury and hate were in Leah's eyes; fear and loathing were in Emily's. No, worse for Emily. Her already half-fucked up face crumpled up and she looked like she was going to cry.

_Oh, shit._

"Leah," Sam said in a warning tone as he wrapped Emily in his arms. "Go outside," he commanded.

"Fuck you," Leah told him. "You're not gonna kick me out like a dog."

"Well, you certainly act like a bitch," Paul spat. "Your cousin's standing there pregnant and you don't do one damn good thing. Nice, Leah."

"Don't even start, Paul. She had this coming. And then she bitched Quil out for imprinting on a kid, which he had no choice over!"

"Leah," Sam said again, "get out. _Now._"

And Leah had refused the Alpha again. Was that what happened when the Alpha voice wasn't the voice of the rightful Alpha? I thought so. Damn, if I could do something...

Leah, though, didn't move a muscle. Instead, it was Emily who wrangled free from Sam's arms and went outside, leaving everybody silent again. And of course, Sam followed her, bumping into Leah in the shoulder on purpose.

"I fuckin' hate kids," Paul muttered.

"Did I miss something?" I asked. "When did Em get pregnant, anyway?"

"Nobody knows," Jared replied. "It doesn't matter. Whichever way, she's carrying the next Alpha and there's nothing we can do."

"It won't even be the true Alpha," Embry added, looking at me.

"Stop volunteering me all the damn time," I told Embry. Then I turned to the rest of the lopsided circle. Embry, Leah, Paul, Jared, Quil, and Seth all stared at me. "All of you," I said. "Stop trying to make me take this on."

"Well, stop saying stupid shit to challenge him!" Leah cried. "If you're gonna be nothing but a follower like the rest of us, then act like it."

"Really," Paul agreed. "Don't just listen to Sam, argue with him, and then tell us you don't wanna be the Alpha. I know you do."

"To be honest," Seth said quietly, "you'd be a better Alpha. You were born into it for a reason."

"Exactly," Quil said, starting to walk out of the house. "I'm going home. Do what's right, though, Jake. Before it's too late."

Leah, Embry, Paul, Seth, and Jared all followed him out, leaving me alone. Shit. Were they right? I almost wanted to believe that they were, but—

"_FUCK!_" Paul hollered. I was outside in a second, and _damn_. The smell. _The fucking smell. _Leeches. Bloodsuckers. Parasites. Whatever the fuck you want to call them. They were near. Incredibly close. _Too_ close.

Almost simultaneously, we all phased, with a tear-stained Emily jumping back, just avoiding being trampled. If only she could have jumped back as quickly _before_ Sam had ripped her face up.

A million thoughts were whirring through my head. Only about five were my own.

_Who are they?_

_What do they want?_

_Have they killed anyone yet?_

_Where are they going?_

_WHO THE FUCK ARE THEY?_

_How many of them are here?_

Our questions were answered, alright; we'd stopped the leeches in their tracks, right in the woods, by my own backyard. They must've been heading to my house. But for what?

There were two of the leeches, and we'd almost killed them the last time they were here.

Fucking Edward and Alice Cullen. Skin as pale as a sheet, eyes bright and golden, snarky expressions on their faces. As if they hadn't expected us to be here, but they were willing to take us on, anyway. _Please._

_What the fuck are you doing here!? _I demanded as the others in the pack snarled and snapped. I knew Edward—the fucking reason for all of this bullshit—could read my mind. I needed to know.

"I need the letters," Edward said. "Now."

_NO! They're not for you!_ I lunged at him, and he jumped back, scared. Alice didn't move a muscle.

"Give me the letters, Jacob," he demanded. "And we'll leave."

_You didn't want them before. Why would you want them now?_

"I just need them. Give them to me."

_You've done more harm to Bella than good. You don't deserve a damn thing. Wait, no, you DESERVE to live with this, knowing you killed Bella._

"I didn't kill her!" he yelled, causing the wolves to inch even closer to him.

_Why the fuck do you need the letters!?_ I demanded.

_Just kill him already, for fuck's sake, before I do,_ Paul thought.

"I told you, Jacob," Edward said. "I'm done with Bella. Everything to do with her. I'm tired of fighting a war that I can never win. Give me the letters and we'll be done with this."

_You have it all wrong_, I snarled. _YOU'RE done with this. I already told you two that you're gonna be killed if you're here again._

_Jake_, Sam butted in, _let me do this._

_No. I started this, Sam. Allow me to finish it._

Edward and Alice started dashing away, but not quick enough. I really was the rightful Alpha. Biggest, fastest, strongest. The pack took care of Alice in almost no time. I pinned Edward down, and he couldn't fight me off. Good. I roared, pulled my teeth back, and then dove for his neck, ripping his head off in less than a second.

A head of copper hair rolled away into the distance.

* * *

"What a great Sunday this is," Jared said sarcastically as we all went back to our homes that evening.

Good for Jared. Really. Good for him. Sure, he could try to be funny. Nothing had happened to _him_.

I should have been happy. Or at least a little more thrilled. _I'd_ killed Edward. _I'd_ stepped up to Sam and finished the reeking bloodsucker off. _I'd_ avenged Bella. Wasn't that what life was all about? Vengeance? Everybody seemed to live by the _eye for an eye_ phrase. If we all used that, we'd be blind. But who cares? The only thing that can make up feeling so, _so_ bad after someone doing something to you or someone you love, is the amazing feeling of feeling so, _so_ good after making the culprit pay for it.

So I really should have been happier. I should have thrown a party or something. Celebrated with a round of _Call of Duty: Black Ops_ with the guys. But of course this all had to happen on _this_ day. Quil imprinting, Emily freaking out and being pregnant… Wasn't the easiest of days.

Oh, and to make things even better, we managed to acquire two more wolves.

And that was cool to maybe one person. Quil, that is, who was the only person that was actually okay with phasing to begin with.

Collin Littlesea and Brady Fuller were both thirteen, and the leeches dropping in managed to make them phase. Just like that, on the spot. Sam found them (and then called me over) in the woods together as wolves, whimpering and crying and being so unsure of themselves, of what had become of them. It was like looking into a mirror. Like when I had first phased. That had been horrible. Terrifying. And I knew that Collin and Brady had felt the same way—I could see it in their eyes.

"Hey," Sam said softly. "You two are gonna be okay."

_No_, I wanted to tell them. _Your lives are ruined. Join the club._

* * *

After some "brief" counseling with the pack over Brady and Collin (and trying to gain my own mind back), I got home at about nine at night. Billy was already asleep. Must've partied hard.

The second I stepped into my house, I felt the ghost wrap itself around me. No standing behind me, no standing in front of me, or to the side—just _enclosed_ itself around my body. It would have scared me to death if this was the first time I'd had an encounter with her.

The ghost held onto me as I walked to my room, and when I turned on my lamp, I looked down at my nightstand and saw a little disk sitting there. No case. Nothing. Just a disk that looked like it was almost glowing. What was it? A CD? A DVD?

When I looked closer, I saw that, in teeny-tiny writing, it said, _Jacob_. Of course it was meant for me. Why wouldn't it be? I didn't feel so lucky anymore.

I grabbed the disk and walked to the living room. If it was a CD, then that was rad. My DVD player could play CDs. I'd throw the thing away as soon as I was done with it. But when I inserted the disk into the DVD player, a DVD—a movie?—started loading. I uneasily sat down on the couch and felt the ghost make itself comfortable right next to me.

_It can't be that bad_, I told myself, chilled to the bone. _It just can't be that bad._

And in a way, I was right. It wasn't that bad. Not at all.

It was worse.

* * *

_**A/N: **Dun, dun, dunnnn. Haha. That was the latest chapter of Gods and Monsters. I'm working on the next one as of now. I'll update as soon as it's ready!_

_Write those reviews - they really, really help. :)_

_Keep calm, bundle up for those heading towards winter, go see BD-2 again, take care,_

_MTL. xo_


	10. Chapter Ten

_****__**Warning: this chapter especially contains content that's really not for children, unless you're a really, really mature child. If not, it's not my fault you read this. I'm not forcing you to. Don't go running to your mom crying that I'm such a terrible person if this upsets you. Ok.**_

_**A/N: **I'm so excited to share this chapter with you guys! I say it's a bit of a turning point. Well, in MY opinion, anyway. Enjoy! xx_

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

I couldn't skip through the video. I literally couldn't. As it started, with the camera on Bella, I tried to skip through it all. I tried to fast forward. That didn't work. I tried to click the DVD player off. That didn't work, either.

The ghost had drained the batteries. Every last bit of energy in them.

I fucking knew it. I had to see this stupid video. I had to. The ghost wouldn't allow me to _not _watch it. But—like the dumb-ass I was—I still tried to fight the ghost. I got up and quickly walked to my room and—

_What the actual hell?_

The ghost had hit me in the arm, and it hadn't been light. I actually felt it. I looked down at my right forearm, and it was… it was kind of glowing.

So that was a no to avoiding the video.

I returned to the living room and sat down in the dark. The television's screen was all static, but then the ghost restarted the video.

*.*.*

_"Come on, Arizona," a voice whines, "it's my birthday. Could you hurry it up a little?" The camera is on Bella and she was walking toward it, carrying a box. It looks like a pizza box._

_But Bella looks... weird. Way different. She's wearing a short skirt and a tight shirt that shows off her boobs. This isn't Bella. At least not the Bella that I thought I knew. She looks thoroughly annoyed with the cameraman, who has to be Mike._

_"That's really not a great thing to say to someone who just bought your dinner, Mike."_

_Mike laughs. "And I appreciate it. Now hurry it up. Or don't. You look good in slow motion."_

_Bella promptly paces toward Mike and takes the camera from him. "Take the pizza," she told him. "I'll record you driving."_

_By now I know for a fact that this isn't going to be short. The video was already cut into a film of some sort. The next scene is quickly and sloppily cut to Bella pointing the camera at a 2-liter bottle of Pepsi sitting in the back seat of the car. She sighs and points the camera at Mike, who is driving._

_"Why the attitude, baby?" he asks her._

_"How many times do I have to tell you that I can't stand Pepsi?"_

_"Can't see why you hate it. You taste just like it." He turns to Bella and winks._

_Something must've happened between this scene and the next one, because in the next one, the camera is positioned on the dashboard and it's pointing at Bella. The car's not moving. Bella's pouting and tears are in her eyes. Bella—my Bella—is upset because of this fucking jerk._

_"Don't hate me," Mike says. Bella doesn't respond._

_"Talk to me, Bella," he says. "Because if you don't talk, you know I will."_

_That bought her. "Okay, what?" she asks._

_"I'm sorry."_

_"I know you are."_

_"Things are just better this way, though. You wouldn't want the people you love to get hurt, would you?"_

_"N-no, not at all," Bella stutters._

_"Good. Now come here."_

_He leans over and kisses Bella, his hand slipping into her shirt. _

_"Please don't touch me like that," Bella whispers as Mike keeps his filthy hand on her. "We don't have to be like this."_

_"You're mine," Mike growls. "So act like it."_

_I'm not even close to done yet. The next scene starts with the camera still on the dashboard._

_"Hey, Mike?" Bella asks the camera._

_"What, Bella?"_

_She smiles a little to herself. Gorgeous. "What if I accidentally threw this video camera off a cliff?"_

_"Ha. I'd accidentally throw YOU off a cliff," Mike replies bluntly. Bella's tiny smile fades._

_"What are you, a hundred pounds?" he asks. "It'll be easy. Just give me a time and date."_

_Bella is silent. She looks hurt again. My last few heartstrings snap at the sight._

_"Thanks," she says._

_"You know I'm kidding."_

_"Sure."_

_The next scene's in the perspective of Bella. She points the camera at Mike._

_"Lighten up, Bella," he tells her. "Relax. Come on, baby, let's ride. We can escape to the great sunshine."_

_"Sunshine, my ass," Bella mutters. "We're going to your uncle's cabin."_

_"You'll love it," Mike insists. "There'll be nobody to bother us... nobody to call or text or anything..."_

"_What if something happens to us?" Bella asks._

"_Nothing will. I promise."_

_The scene cuts to a new one, pointing up at a strange-looking house in the middle of the woods. It's bigger than a cabin—way bigger—and it's really eerie. It looks like the house from the end of _The Blair Witch Project.

"_This is creepy," Bella says. She points the camera at Mike, who shrugs._

"_It's nothing," he tells her as he carries the pizza box and bottle of Pepsi._

_They enter the house and set their things—their food and an overnight bag that Bella brought—down on a dusty table in a small, dusty, dilapidated kitchen._

"_No one's been here in a while," Mike explains._

_Bella sighs and murmurs, "I can tell. What do you want to do first?"_

_The scene ended there. Cut to black._

_Just when I think it's over, it starts again, and the camera is on… Bella's stomach? Yes, it's her flat, pale stomach. "I think it's recording," she says. "You ready?"_

_She backs away from the camera, still facing it (it has to be docked on a dresser or something), and Bella is in her underwear. She's shivering in her black lace bra and matching panties. Mike almost naked in a bed serves as a background. Bella turns around and bam—a thong. She is wearing a thong._

_Bella approaches Mike, who is still lying in the bed, and he says, "Of course I'm ready. I've been waiting forever for this."_

_Bella smiles uncomfortable. She's obviously not all for this. "Well, maybe this'll make your birthday extra happy."_

_She goes to her knees and unhooks her bra for Mike, slowly and seductively. Almost willingly._

_Mike whispers something inaudible and then he grabs Bella, rolling her under him. I can hear the tearing sound of him ripping off her underwear. Bella whimpers as Mike forces himself on her, pushing and squeezing and touching fast—way too fast for her. Her face is pained and there are tears in her eyes again. There is feel and loathing in her eyes._

_Torture._

_This is torture to watch._

_I am seeing Bella—innocent Bella—being hurt with my own eyes. I'm waiting for it to be over, just like she is._

_Every second of this burns my eyes. It cuts my heart up into tiny pieces, and when they're done, Mike holds Bella under the sheets like he's trying to keep her warm. Like he cares. Bella is still shivering, and there are tears rolling down her beautiful face._

"_What's wrong, baby?" Mike asks, as if everything's okay._

_She doesn't respond with words. She blinks, and more tears are running down that precious face of an innocent girl._

"_Tell me what's wrong," Mike says, his voice harder._

"_I don't like feeling bad," is what Bella whispers. She's shivering and her breathing is uneasy. It's plain to see that she's scared. Terrified. Regretful._

"_You're not bad," Mike tells her. "Not most of the time. Not when you do this. Bella, baby, you made me happy. That's all I could ask for."_

_Bella looks infuriated when she turns and stares at Mike. "Then why don't you let me go?" she demands, her voice sharper than broken glass._

"_I don't need you trying to turn me in. I've told you this a thousand times, Bella."_

"_I won't," she breathes. "I promise. Just… we don't have to do this. We don't. Not anymore."_

"_Yes we do." He reaches his hand up to brush back a few loose strands of her hair back behind her ear, and she flinches. "We wouldn't want everyone knowing about your little interactions with the undead, would we?" he asked._

_So that's what he knows._

"_N-no one would believe you," Bella stammers._

"_Do you think I'm an idiot?" he asks. "Really, Bella?"_

"_No."_

"_That's why I have this video camera," he says. "I don't think anyone would believe me either, and that's why I have it."_

"_Why did you believe me in the first place?" she asks. "I was, like, half asleep when I was telling you about… the Cullens."_

"_You're fucking crazy," Mike replies, "but not crazy enough to make up shit like that."_

"_But you're crazy enough to tell people about vampires."_

"_I guess I am."_

"…_Can we go home now?"_

"_No, stupid, it's only six o'clock."_

"_I hate it when you call me stupid," she tells him._

"_I hate it when you act stupid," he replies._

_The movie switches cuts again and it's now in the perspective of Mike. He approaches a room, and Bella's sitting up in the small bed with a sheet wrapped around her. She has a look of melancholy on her face, and it's only more prominent as Mike gets closer and closer._

"_Look what I've got," he says, holding out a clear glass bottle. It's probably not water._

_Bella's face lights up a little bit as Mike settles himself on the bed with her. "This is like medicine to me," she says, taking the bottle from him and opening it._

"_Easy, Arizona," he tells her. "Save some for me."_

"_I will," she replies. "I promise."_

_She puts her lips on the bottle and takes a big gulp of the vodka. When she's done she looks into the camera, shrugs, and puts on a coy, innocent little pout. A lost girl disguised as an angel. The little innocence she has left is presented._

"_Damn, Arizona," Mike says. "That seemed a little too easy."_

_She sighs and says, "I try my best." She plops back onto the bed and reaches her arm out. "Give me the camera."_

_Mike passes her the camera and the device nearly slips through Bella's fingers, falling. "Whoops," she murmurs. She points the camera and Mike. "So, Mister Mike Newton. How's it feel to be eighteen?"_

"_It feels like I was seventeen just yesterday."_

_Bella lets out a single laugh. "You're funny."_

_He takes a gulp of the vodka from a bottle. "I try my best."_

"_I feel ya."_

"_I want the camera back," Mike says. He reaches his arm out and takes it back. "I'm not photogenic."_

"_Right, and I am?" Bella asks. "Please."_

"_You're cute," Mike tells her. "You're pretty."_

"_Your vocabulary sucks," she teases._

"_Okay, thesaurus," he replies._

"_You know, Mike, if I didn't hate you, I'd like you."_

"_Back at ya, sweetie."_

"_Really, though. You're lucky you brought something to drink."_

_The next scene doesn't look that different, on the surface. Bella and Mike are still on the bed. Mike is just a little further away and Bella's curled up, the sheet covering all of her but one leg. Oh, and Bella's drunk. Or a little tipsy. It's in her eyes._

_"Lights, camera, action," Bella purrs, her own fingertips slowly stroking her thigh. "You like me, right?"_

_"Mm-hmm."_

_Her brown eyes are as wide as the moon. "You know you like innocent little girls like me."_

_"Mm-hmm."_

_"Put me in a movie," she commands. Oh yeah, she really is drunk._

_"You're already in one."_

_"Promise this'll be just between us? No one else?"_

_"I promise."_

_What a liar._

"_I like your movies," Bella coos._

"_You're wasted, but I know you do."_

"_I look pretty, right?" she asks him._

"_Yeah."_

"_Prettier than Jessica?"_

"_Yeah."_

"_Prettier than Lauren?"_

"_If you took the sheet off you would be."_

_She slowly slips the sheet from herself, exposing herself to the camera. "Better?"_

"_Beautiful. Your body's a paradise."_

_She smiles. "That's all I ever wanted to hear."_

_Mike sets the camera down on the dresser nearby—where the camera was positioned earlier—and then kisses Bella greedily, like he can't get enough when she's obviously had enough of him._

_But the weird thing is, she is kissing him back. He's putting his hands all over her and she's not doing a thing about it but moaning and smiling. She moves up and sits down on his stomach, staring at him. Then she slides down his body, passes her hips by his, and where she puts her mouth makes Mike release a moan._

_She's going down on him. Right here._

_She is beyond drunk. She is delusional._

_She is somewhat willing as they do even more things. What I am seeing cannot be unseen; what I am hearing cannot be unheard._

_What I am feeling can never, ever be unfelt._

_The scene is cut abruptly again, and the camera is on Mike. He's driving again. It's the next morning. Finally._

"_I fucking hate you, Mike Newton." Bella tells him. "And I hope this video will get out so people can see the asshole that you are. It'll show everyone you raped me."_

"_Don't act like you didn't like it," he says. "Really. And I didn't even record anything from this morning. You weren't drunk this morning either. You wanted it."_

"_What made you think I wanted it?" she questions. "Were my screams not loud enough? Did you not feel me trying to push you away?"_

"_Just shut up already," he tells her, his voice louder. "It's over."_

"_It's not over until I say it is," she replies sharply. "You're gonna pay for this. I don't care if these videos get out; my dad's a cop and he's gonna believe that I was forced, because I was. You're not going to get out of this okay. I hope you end up behind bars."_

"_Oh, and what if I don't, because you won't tell your big, bad, cop dad?"_

"_Do you remember Jacob Black, from the night at the movies? He'll kick your ass."_

"_Right. He hasn't even been picking you up from work. He left you, didn't he? What, did he find someone new to fuck? I was right about Cullen and I was right about your retarded featherhead, too. They both left you."_

"_Shut the fuck up!" Bella yells at Mike. "Don't talk about Jacob like that! He almost killed you at the movies and if you say something else I won't hold him back this time."_

"_Can't you see it, stupid!?" Mike screams, smashing his right fist on the steering wheel. "You have nobody. NOBODY! Nobody wants you, Bella. Nobody. Fucking. Wants. You. And nobody's going to love you as much as I do. Nobody loves you, period. You're a fucking mess. You're easy. You're a slut. You can't do a damn thing."_

_Things are silent for a little while until Bella whispers, "You sound just like Edward."_

"_Good. You certainly trusted the vampire enough. I'm better than him, though. I'm not afraid to get what I want from you."_

"_I hate you," is the last thing said in the video._

*.*.*

The television went to static again.

I threw up and passed out.

* * *

_Broken._

_Torn. Misunderstood. Upset. Hopeless. Abused._

_Loving. Dreaming. Wanting. Hoping. Wishing._

_Beautiful. Lovely. Unique. One-of-a-kind. Fucking perfect._

_Agitated. Misunderstanding. Self-destructive. Unstable._

_Loved everything. Loved nothing. Got upset over nothing. Everything upset her._

_Helpless. Vulnerable._

_Broken beyond repair._

_Bella fucking Swan._

* * *

How was it even possible to be so… so _controlled _by someone who wasn't even alive anymore?

It wasn't fucking fair. Nothing was fair. I couldn't help but blame God again. The Man had forced me to see this, too. I did not deserve this. I could fuck up a thousand times and I would still never deserve an ounce of this. Yeah, it was selfish, but it was even more selfish of God. Bella, too. Bella, especially. And everyone. Everything.

And right here, I was looking still looking for answers, even though I knew everything. But knowing Bella, there was probably more, just waiting to find me. The ghost would find a way to slip me more information, whether I wanted it or not. And by now, I didn't want any more information. I'd seen enough. I'd seen too much.

That video had made me feel like she'd died in front of me yet again.

Mike or Edward or anyone else could call me a retarded featherhead or some other racist nickname a trillion times in my face. Mike or Edward or anyone else could try to knock me down and spit on me like a slug. Mike or Edward or anyone else could threaten me. I could take all of that. I could take it every single day—every waking moment—as long as Bella wasn't harmed.

But Bella had been harmed. She'd been insulted and raped and threatened and drugged, and I'd seen all those things, like I'd been there myself.

Sure, I was pissed. I was sad, too. My heart had ripped again. It was a daily thing. I wanted to give the whole _world_ a good kick in the ass. I wanted to crumple up and cry some more. I wanted to kill myself. Fling myself off a cliff like Bella had. I wanted to hit someone really hard and make them feel as terrible as I felt.

But all that anger and sorrow had been spiked by something more potent and powerful. Something better. Something that would solve things once and for all and if not, then shit. At least I tried.

I was compelled with vengeance.

Edward hadn't been enough. There was someone else at the top of my list that needed to receive their payback, and I was determined to make sure that they would.

It was too late to save Bella, but I could sure as hell avenge her.

* * *

No sleep, no food, no mercy. No disappointment, either.

I was standing in the parking lot of Forks High School at promptly three-fifteen the next afternoon. The final bell rang and I waited and waited for Mike Newton to get out of school. I even parked my bike (_for you, Bells_) right next to the stupid Suburban the kid drove.

As all the people flooded out to the parking lot, you'd think they'd entered the Twilight Zone or something. They were so confused. Almost scared, too. What was so scary about a big, pissed, Native American guy leaning against a motorcycle? I was still trying to figure that out, too.

I saw two or three familiar faces. From the funeral, of course. A tall girl, Ashley or Angela or Anna or whoever, had a look of surprise on her face to see me. She turned to the familiar short girl next to her—Jennifer or something like that—and asked, "Is that…?"

"I think so," the short girl replied, staring at me. "I wonder what he wants." Man, if only she knew that I could hear her.

_Let's have a little fun_, I thought. I stepped away from my bike and approached the two girls, who were only on the other side of the lot.

"Hey," the short one said, practically staring up at me like I was a skyscraper (I half expected her to ask me how the weather was up here), "can we help you?"

"I'm looking for a guy named Mike. Mike Newton," I stated.

"What do you need him for?" the short girl asked, defensively. What, had Mike dated her, too? Did he have an entire museum of girls on that video camera of his?

"I just need to talk to him," I replied. "Where is he?"

"He's at track practice, which ends at five," the taller girl spoke up. At least she wasn't rude.

"Great," I said, walking away from them and making my way to the main building. I'd been there once or twice.

I thought I heard someone say something to me, but I couldn't have cared. I was on my way to avenge Bella.

* * *

I found the gym and locker room easily enough. I'd been to the gym before, way back when I'd surprised Bella at her junior prom. I could see her now, in that blue dress with the red rose in her hair. She'd looked gorgeous. I hadn't been able to ignore the stupid cast on her leg, though. Even back then I'd suspected the bloodsucker had done something.

As I walked around, waiting for it to be five o'clock, I realized that I'd also been right about something else: Forks High really _did_ let any old riff-raff in. Nobody noticed that a tall, ripped, scary Native American was walking around the school during the afterhours, and if people did notice, then they certainly didn't give a damn. I liked it. If it wasn't too late, I might've transferred here and got Embry to go with me. The rez school had exclusivity, but you can't get more exclusive than less than a hundred students.

At one point in time, I glanced at a plain old clock hanging on the wall, and there I saw the minute hand pointing up and proudly at the twelve, and the hour hand hanging at the five. It was time.

* * *

Cornering Mike in the locker room was too easy. Didn't he know that being the last person to leave was one of the dumbest things he could do? Rule of thumb in scary movies: never be alone in the locker room, whether you're a dumb cheerleader or an overzealous jock or whatever. And this movie was going to be scarier than anything he'd experienced.

No, I wasn't going to phase. I couldn't afford to do that and try to get away before anyone else saw. And if I randomly exploded, I would have to get out of the school naked. I couldn't afford that either. It would be hilarious to see Mike's face all scared as shit, but I couldn't just phase, even as the thought of him pissed me off.

Anyway, he was putting on his shoes right as I was trapping him in that small locker room. To him, it probably looked like I came out of nowhere.

"'Sup, marshmallow?" I greeted him, leaning against a locker by the door.

He looked up and looked genuinely scared and confused. "Wh-what the fuck are you doing here?" he stammered.

"What do you think?" I asked, staying in my place. "I'm here to say hi."

"Aren't you from the… the…?"

"The funeral?" I prompted. "Yup. The funeral of the girl I love. And I know what you did to her."

"So what did I do?" he asked almost innocently.

I slowly sauntered over to him. As I basically hovered over him, he slid back on the bench he was sitting on, looking even more scared.

"Hey, calm down," I told him, my voice dripping with mockery. "I'm not gonna eat ya. What do I look like to you? A monster? A werewolf or something?" I smirked. "A _vampire_?"

He flinched so hard I thought he would pee his pants. I laughed hard enough to make him flinch like that twice.

"You're a freak," he said quietly. "Go away."

I mock-considered this. "Hmm," I said. "How about no?"

"Look, man," he said, his voice shaking, "I don't really know you, and I don't know what you want from me. I don't even know what you're talking about."

"You certainly knew what you were forcing Bella on yourself and recording it, didn't you?" I asked. "Didn't you? And you certainly knew what you were talking about when you were threatening to kill her and threatening to show everyone your little homemade movies, huh?"

He gulped.

"I saw one of your movies," I continued, "and what you did really wasn't cool. You had something over Bella, and you were using that against her. You think that's funny? You think that's cool? Well, you're wrong."

He didn't say anything, because I was right and he was beyond wrong.

"Give me the video camera and start talking," I told him. When he didn't move, I made my voice a little quieter, a little scarier. I could be a menace if I wanted to. Bella had been able to bring out the best in me, and because of what had recently happened, she could certainly bring out the worst. "_Give me the video camera and start talking or I'll slit your throat._"

Wordless, Mike scrambled to get into his backpack. I knew he'd still carry it around.

"There's nothing of Bella on it," he told me. "I promise."

"You also 'promised' that no one would see your little movies, but here I am." I snatched the camera from his hands and looked through all the different videos. I knew how to navigate this camera; my dad used to have one just like it.

I looked through all the preview screencaps and there was nothing of Bella. Absolutely nothing.

_No._

The video camera as clean as can be, along with a little selection of stupid sports videos. I looked at Mike, who was curled up in the corner, between lockers.

"I told you Bella's not on that camera anymore," he whispered.

"Where are the videos?" I asked.

No response.

"Where are the fucking videos!?" I yelled.

"I don't have them!" he yelled back.

"Give me the damn videos and I'll take care of you easily."

"I already told you, I don't have them. I sent a bunch to Bella a long time ago, but I got rid of them all after she... died. I didn't need them anymore."

"Oh, and you moved on quickly, huh? You found a new girl to record naked like the little perv you are? Got rid of the Bella stuff to start fresh? "

"How did you know, though?" he breathed.

"That's not the point. Why'd you do it? Was it 'cause you can't get any action yourself? What'd Bella ever do to you? Did she make you cry?"

"I... I..."

"Hold up, I gotta record this amazing confession." I quickly turned on the video camera and started recording.

"Turn that shit off," Mike said.

"Just fucking try," I dared him.

He grimaced.

"C'mon," I said. "Open up. What possessed you to think it was okay to abuse Bella?"

"I just wanted some respect," he admitted. "Doesn't everyone?"

"I don't rape girls to get respect."

"It wasn't about sex," he said. "Do you know how many times she's denied me? I was tired of being awkward. So I got what I want. Is that such a crime?"

This kid was beyond stupid. "It's a crime when you blackmail an innocent person," I replied.

"Look, I'm used to getting what I want," Mike said. "I am. And this was the first time I couldn't get what I wanted. So I took care of it myself."

"You took care of it by raping her."

"I already said it wasn't about sex!" he shouted. "It wasn't in the beginning! This doesn't even matter anymore. She's already dead. I dealt with the sadness. I cried at the funeral. I didn't know she was going to jump in the first place. I didn't tell her to. This is over."

"No, it's not over," I said, inching closer to him. "I may be a retarded featherhead, but you're gonna pay for what you did to Bella, starting with telling everyone what you did."

"No, I'm not."

"You already said it's over, didn't you? Tell everyone what you did, or I'll make your life a living hell, just like you made Bella's."

He sighed. "Well, I did it," he said into the camera. "I blackmailed Bella Swan. I'm part of the reason for her death. You happy?"

I clicked off the video camera and set it down. "I'm not happy."

"Can I have that back?" he asked, his eyes on the camera.

"No."

"What the fuck do you want from me!?" he demanded, jumping up and staring up at me. "I admitted what I did and you scared the shit out of me. What do you want? My money? Because I can give you every dollar I have to my name so you can buy all the alcohol you need." He got up in my face, and when he was about to punch me, I grabbed him by the throat, lifting him to face me eye to eye.

"I don't want your fucking money," I whispered. "And you're not finished. You're gonna tell the whole school—the whole _town_—what you did. Bella's dad before anyone else. And you're gonna leave, and _never_ come back. I don't care if you're sorry—your pathetic apology isn't gonna bring Bella back or even come close to justifying what you did. You're a fucking pig, and I hope you burn in hell."

"Okay," he choked. "Okay!"

I let go of him and he staggered back, falling on his ass onto the floor. I grabbed the camera and started to walk away, but he kicked my ankle. "Fucking asshole." Instinctively, I turned around and kicked him in the stomach—hard. He flew back, his head almost breaking the bench. He groaned. "Oh, fuck."

"That's what I thought," I said. I threw the video camera in his general direction, but it soared to the ground and broke. _Whoops._

I left the locker room with a certain feeling. It wasn't that sweet, but I knew that I had evened the score—a little bit.

Just a little.

* * *

"What the fuck did you _do_?" Embry demanded.

I went to his house after I left Forks High. I couldn't go back to my own place; I knew the ghost would be lingering around, and my heart couldn't take anything else right now. Yeah, I'd regained that once my anger had slowly dissolved into hurt.

"I don't know _what_ I did," I replied. "I just… don't know."

"I know I'm gonna sound like Sam when I say this, but you need to control yourself, bro. You could've killed that kid."

"I _should've_ killed that kid," I muttered.

"That's not what we're supposed to do. We're supposed to protect people; not scare the shit outta them."

"I don't think the kid qualifies as a person. He's a fucking monster, Embry." Yeah, a monster calling someone else a monster. Classic. If only Embry knew what really happened.

"I know, Jake. I know."

"You really don't know," I told him. "You're just saying that."

"Then maybe you should tell me."

I wanted to tell Embry. I wanted to tell him everything. He was my best friend. "No," I said. "I can't."

"Well, that helps. Thanks, Jake."

"I wish I could!" I replied in my poor defense of myself. "But I really can't."

"Whatever, Jake, it's cool. Just…"

"Just what?"

"Just get a grip on yourself, okay?" he asked quietly. "I… I don't want you to get into trouble or anything. Shit happens when people fuck up. Especially people like us. Nobody trusts us.

"I know you're still trying to get over what happened with Bella and everything, and I think you can. No, screw that—I _know_ you can. Do things that make you happy. Think of happy times with her. All that's good for you. You know? You can't just sit here grieving and almost killing people. They don't deserve that, and neither do you. Okay?"

"Sure, sure," I replied.

"And if you feel like you're gonna kill someone," he added, "at least tell me first so I can try to calm you down. And hell, if everything goes to shit, I'll help you kill 'em. But let me know first. Alright?"

"You sound like my dad," I replied.

"Yeah, all of us smart people sound the same."

"Shut up."

* * *

_**A/N: ***sigh of relief* And that was the tenth chapter. If y'all noticed (and I know you did, Master Gaga :3), this story is a bit inspired by the lyrics of the fabulous Lana Del Rey. I noticed that an old story of mine, titled Blur, was heavily inspired by Lana's Born To Die album, and this one is inspired by Lana's latest EP, Paradise. Cute how the stories really don't go together. Haha. Anyway, I've been listening to a lot of Marina and the Diamonds, too. She's a great artist. Her Electra Heart album (especially the tracks "Teen Idle" and "Fear & Loathing") inspire some of the Bella stuff in this story, too. Oh yeah. _

_So aside from my random blurb of "Here's the music I obsess over!1!" bit, what did you think of the chapter? What would YOU have done, if you were in Jacob's place? But really: what did you think of the chapter? I busted my ass over this - it was intense for me to write, lol. Feedback is the best thing I can receive from my readers._

_Merry Week-Until-Christmas, happy whatever other holidays you may celebrate, stay warm (for the Northern Hemisphere folks), stay cool (for the Southern Hemisphere folks), and always be fabulous,_

_MTL. xoxo_


	11. Chapter Eleven

_**A/N: **Hi, my beautiful people. I meant to update this fanfic way earlier, but I've recently been kind of busy. Now that I'm on winter break, though, I plan on doing a lot of writing as well as a lot of sleeping. This chapter of Gods and Monsters is kind of topsy-turvy and an emotional rollercoaster, since a lot happens and I'm not smart enough to split the chapter into two, but here it is, at about 5.5-5.6k words long. _

_**Contains:** the last letter, a little Jacob/Embry stuff, a dream, a lot of cursing, and a vampire._

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

Have you ever been so torn between going somewhere and staying home? More torn than you really should be? Thinking about something and not thinking about something, yet you're still thinking about that something, anyway? Wanting to avoid it, but knowing that if you try to avoid it, you're going to run right into it?

What a mindfuck.

That was what things were like for me. Everyday consisted of mindfucks.

I stayed home that entire week of school. On Monday I'd gone after Mike, but on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, I stayed home. I'd run out of vengeance too quickly. Way too quickly. I should've killed Mike.

As I stayed at home, I realized for a brief second that maybe I should go to rehab. Nobody bothers you in rehab by pretending things are okay. In rehab, I bet that people don't even ask you what's wrong. If you're in rehab, something is obviously wrong. Why try to sugarcoat it? And in rehab, my friends wouldn't be visiting me every half hour asking how I was doing. Rehab sounded good to me. They made rehab for not-famous teens, right? Would they accept me? I had a disease; they'd have to accept my fucked up self. Bella was my disease—my addiction, too. Fear was another one of my diseases, because I could now admit that I was afraid of Bella. She'd been the only thing to break me, and she had.

I realized another thing as I stayed at home that week: reality was a bitch. Fantasy was good. In one of my fantasies, Bella was still with me. She was breathing and healthy and… _alive_. In another one of my fantasies, I was fourteen and I'd never reconnected with Bella. I was with Quil and Embry, driving around in Quil's mom's car. I felt alive and normal. And in yet another fantasy, I was five, and surrounded by the people who loved me: my family. The only thing I wanted now was family. My father, my mother, and both of my sisters. That was all I needed. Bella was bad for me. Bella was a drug. I was a semi-recovering addict.

Fantasy was so, _so_ much better than reality.

In those three days of staying home, I slept a lot. (At one point, Quil told me I was acting like a pregnant chick.) That was how I experienced my fantasies. Through dreaming. Living in the state of dreaming was so much better than being awake. When I slept, nothing hurt. I felt like I was floating. Flying. Stretching the limits. When I woke up, I felt even more tired. I would lie in bed until I fell asleep again. The cycle never ended. I just didn't want to be awake.

The pack visited often—too often—but my dad just left me alone. He never bothered me. He knew I didn't want to be bothered. He respected that. He always went to the Clearwaters' place or Charlie's place. He went on fishing trips just about every day that week. He didn't want to bother me or say the wrong thing. He sort of cared.

Even as I didn't want to do anything—watch TV, work in the garage, nothing—I didn't cry. I wouldn't cry over Bella anymore. I couldn't. I'd avenged her; there was no reason to cry. I'd done everything in my power for her. Everything. I was drained. No more tears would be shed over this girl.

Not crying over Bella was easier now that the ghost had started to lay off a little bit. It was almost as if the ghost had gotten the message; she didn't bother me at all for those days. She didn't burst any light bulbs or turned on the television or give me more DVDs to watch anymore. She didn't touch me or hit me or brush against me. She didn't do anything. It was like she was gone, only I just knew she wasn't. But hadn't she gotten what she wanted yet? Why couldn't she just make her way to heaven or hell or wherever she belonged? Here, in my house, wasn't the right place for her to lurk around.

With no one but the occasional pack member to bother me, there was no reason to leave my bedroom. Embry had once called it a cave. I was a caveman. I stayed in my cave all the time. Well, I only left my cave to eat and pee. The basics.

At breakfast on Friday morning, Billy was still in the house. As he sat at the table, he poured some milk into the bowl of cereal sitting in front of him.

"I didn't know you were still here," I said, going into the kitchen to find something to eat.

"I didn't know _you_ were still here, either, kid," he replied. "How're ya doing?"

"Still breathing," I sighed.

"Damn, Jake, you're acting like a ghost." I knew it was a joke but my eyes still shot to him. "Who are you and what did you do to my son?" he asked teasingly.

"I'm still here, dad," I replied. "I'm not a ghost."

"That's the spirit." He chuckled to himself.

_You're not as funny as you think you are_, I thought.

I got a packet of Pop-Tarts and sat down at the table across from my dad. He picked up his copy of _The Seattle Times_ (yeah, really off, since we lived about more than hundred and fifty miles away from Seattle) and shuffled through it.

"These damn kids," my dad muttered. "You don't know what to do with 'em."

"What're you talking about, Dad?" I asked, removing the Pop-Tarts from the package and crumpling up the shiny wrapper.

He looked up at me. "Didn't you hear? A kid in Forks hung himself in his closet last night. His parents found him. He was a friend of Bella's."

_Well, shit._

* * *

"So you killed him," Embry decided. Once again, I was at his house. He wasn't going to go to school today, anyway, much to my surprise. I was glad. He was the only person I could really trust or talk to.

"No, no, no," I replied. "I didn't kill the kid."

"Weren't _you_ the last person to see him?" Embry asked.

"No!" I objected. "I mean, the last time I saw him was on Monday. He could've killed himself because of something else, right?"

"Nah, bro, I think it had something to do with you. In the paper, it said that he wrote a letter. Didn't you hear?"

"Why does everyone here read _The Seattle Times_?" I asked, trying to change the subject. "We don't even live near Seattle."

"I know, I know, but Mike—Newton, I think—wrote a really short letter. He said that he was responsible for Bella's death, and that he had to tell everyone what he did—and you haven't even told me what the fuck he did—because he couldn't take it. He said he was gonna die, anyway."

"He said that?" I asked, astonished.

"You think I'm making this shit up? Look, he killed himself. I don't think he would've told anyone a thing if he wasn't threatened. Last Monday, did you do something big?"

"Well, yeah, I told him he had to tell everyone."

"Jake, you basically killed him."

"He killed himself!"

"But you pushed him to it." Embry threw the newspaper down. "That's not our job, Jake. You're, like, the worse Alpha ever."

"I am not the Alpha!" I yelled. "Stop pushing me to be Alpha and get pissed when I mess up. I can mess up as much as I want. I'm _not_ the Alpha."

"Whether you're the Alpha or not, we're not supposed to kill people."

"Embry," I said, exasperated, "I didn't kill him."

"Well, you certainly helped. What did he even do to make you go after him, anyway?"

"I wanna tell you, man, but I can't."

"Jake, why don't you just tell me!?" he yelled. "You're being so difficult!"

"It wouldn't matter, anyway, Embry!" I shouted back.

"Then stop trying to mention it and then back out of it! You can't have it both ways, Jake. That's not how things work."

"Well, maybe I _want_ things to work both ways," I said. It was a selfish thing to say, but I couldn't hold it back. "Life is just kicking me in the ass right now, and you're not letting me try to cope."

"Oh, _I'm_ not letting you do anything now!?" he demanded. "Get over yourself, Jake. We're all fucked. We've been fucked since we phased. Some of us were fucked before then. Whatever the matter, we all have our problems. Stop making this about you all the time. I mean, could complain and cry about the fact that I don't even know who the fuck my own father is, but I don't, because I know that won't change a damn thing."

"You know what, Embry?" I asked. "You're a stupid bastard."

"Thanks," he replied. "I know I am."

"You think you're so much better than everyone when in reality, you're not worth shit. None of us are."

"You're only not worth shit because you don't make anything out of yourself," he replied. "You don't do shit."

"Okay, so with all that's happened, give me an idea on what I _can_ do."

He shrugged. "You could try to be happy. All you've done since we've last really talked is lie down in your room and do nothing. That's not being happy."

"Since when do you know about happiness?" I snarled. "Since when does anyone on the fucking rez know about happiness?"

"Read a fucking book," he told me. "Get a job at the store again. Do something. I don't care. All you're doing is crying the entire fucking Puget Sound over this girl. Face it, Jake: Bella didn't want you when she was alive and even if she were to come back, she still wouldn't want you. You know what she did to you, Jake? She played you. _She played you!_ She led you on! Get the fuck over it!"

I started to shake, and I knew—I fucking _knew_—that I was going to phase. I didn't want to. Phasing wouldn't solve a thing. But I was so mad. I was so mad I could just—

_Oops._

* * *

"Okay, you're fucking fired, man," Embry scoffed.

I rolled my eyes as I got into his old, gray, pickup truck. "It's not my fault you broke your mom's lamp."

"It _is_ your fault," he said, revving up the engine. "And that wasn't just any lamp—that was my mom's most prized possession! She got it from an antique store on the Makah rez!"

"Then why can't we go to the Makah rez to get a new one?" I asked.

"Think with your head for once, will ya?" He sighed. "We're not gonna find a duplicate, and I'm pretty sure that lamp is older than me."

"If it was your mom's most prized possession, it wouldn't have been out in the open like that."

"It was in the corner of the living room!"

"Hey," I said, "I didn't tell you to piss me off and make me phase. You really shouldn't have said the shit that you said."

"Well, it was true," he replied, driving down the road. "How do I get to the freeway from here? I forgot."

"Keep going down the road and make a left."

"Alright."

"Well, you're a still a dick," I told him.

"Yeah, thanks. And you're still coming with me to get a new lamp for my mom. The only thing that can win her over when something of hers gets broken, is when you get her something new entirely. And her birthday's this Sunday. This'll be good."

"You pissed me off on the right day," I replied.

He gave me a sarcastic thumbs-up.

"But you're still a dick," I added.

* * *

We got Embry's mom a new lamp (which didn't really look like the old one) from a store in the Makah reservation in Neah Bay, and by the time we were back, I still didn't know what I was going to do with myself. I'd had my daily episode. I could go home now and sleep.

But did I really want to?

I didn't know what I wanted. I was confused. Dazed. Pissed, too. I was always pissed. I was born to be a werewolf in that way, too. I was hot-blooded, for sure. So much for the self-control of an Alpha.

I didn't know what I wanted to do, so I went home. Billy was already gone. Damn. He had a better social life than I did, and I was only sixteen.

But, hey—more food, more sleep, more thinking room.

I couldn't sleep, though. I could barely eat, and this was new for me. I could only think about Mike.

_Damn_.

Yeah, he had it coming. Of course he did. But was his death worth it, even though Bella was already dead and I already scared him shitless?

Oh, who was I kidding? The sick kid _deserved_ to die and burn in hell, too. What he did would never, ever be forgiven.

* * *

Because there was only one left to read, and I could just shoot myself in the foot now, anyway, I finally brought myself to open to box under my bed and unfold the letter marked as March thirteenth. I didn't want to hesitate. My life had gone to shit already; could it really get much worse?

_This is it_, I thought. _Here goes nothing._

As if on cue, the breeze of the ghost made its presence, and I could feel her making herself comfortable, almost nestling into me. _Welcome back, honey._

*.*.*

_Dear Jacob (sorry, Edward, this isn't for you),_

_Today's the day. That sounds so weird, right? I'm talking about this like today's a good day. Like a wedding or something. Something we've been anticipating. In a way, I've kind of been anticipating this. Opulence is the end, after all. Suicide and heaven makes for great opulence._

_It's four in the morning. I just feel so alert. I've been waking up like this for a while now, though. I've got this war in my mind that's been spinning around, almost destroying me. It's been here for a long time. Hopefully, it will be hushed later. And if not, well, shit—at least I tried._

_I know. I'm morbid. Would you love me if I changed? Probably not._

_Why DO you love me, Jacob? I know it's stupid to ask this, since you'll never get to tell me, but why? What about an awkward, weak, unstable, stupid girl is so attractive? I'm crazy. I'm a bad case to begin with. I don't know why you love me, but I know one thing, and that is that I love you. I'm in love with the idea of being in love. I'm so sick with the thrill of being in love that I'm scared of it. I don't get it. Mike did take a toll on me—I don't think I can have sex or be even nearly that close with someone ever again. But I want love. That's all I want. I'm a sappy, disgusting, gushy romantic. I want to be loved. If I wasn't stupid enough back then to NOT admit to myself that I'm in love with you, then I would be with you. I would. I was afraid of being in love with you, and now that I've been exposed to scarier things, that fear is petty in comparison. Just plain stupid. Some things just don't change, though._

_I wish things weren't how they are now. How many times have I even said that by now?_

_Innocence is unappreciated by society. Innocence is so important to me now. You never know what you had until it's gone and one hundred percent inaccessible._

_I've wasted my youth. I know I'm always considered mature for my age, but now that I know my youth and innocence are gone, I want them back. I shouldn't have started that stupid age game with you. I don't want to be forty. I don't want to feel forty years old, either. I want to feel like I'm eighteen. Seventeen would be better. Sixteen would golden. Sixteen would be golden and sweet and warm. You're a perfect example, after all._

_I want to be a virgin again. I want to be innocent and clean and invincible. I want to live and FEEL again. When I'm not feeling forty years old, looking back on how much I've fucked up, I feel dead. I wanna be young, dope, and proud again. I feel so conned out of my youth. Everything has been wasted. EVERYTHING. Now I just feel drained and suicidal. I had this coming ever since I was stupid enough to accidentally say something about Edward being a vampire._

_I just want to fly away. Go somewhere new and start over, at the tender age of sixteen. I want to be normal. Most importantly, I don't want to live in fear anymore. I don't want to be afraid of myself or ashamed of myself. It's too late for that now, though. Way too late. If I realized this earlier—way earlier—I might be okay. But I'm not. I am afraid of everybody and ashamed of myself. And before I mess more things up, I need to end it. This is my curtain call. My work here, living on this monster-filled land of a planet, is done. There are a trillion different things I could blame everything on, but I can only come down to myself. And freedom is where I'm headed. If not, then I tried. The end._

_I'm not leaving because of Mike. He contributed, but he's not the reason. He's just a loser. A loser who feels the need to control a girl, all because that girl was stupid enough to say something wrong. Mike got what he wanted: power and control. Congratulations to him. I was robbed._

_I'm not leaving because of Charlie. He tried his best. He did. I love my father. I've wronged him so much and he now probably considers me an embarrassment. He's right. I really AM an embarrassment. I'm a joke. What else is new? I was ridiculed._

_I'm not leaving because of Edward. Yes, he changed me. He changed nearly everything about me. He made me hopeless and weak and when I didn't feel hopeless and weak, he reminded me that I was and still am. He sank me to his misanthropic levels, and he kept me there, anchored to him. I never asked for that. I'm not that ambitious but I never, ever asked for that. I was belittled._

_And I am definitely not leaving because of you, Jacob. I love you, Jacob. I just wanted you to know that, baby, you're the best. (I heard that last line in a good song. I forgot who it's by. Lana Del... Who? Whatever.) Jake, you're beautiful. You're the best thing that ever happened to me, and you know why? You're not perfect. Your imperfections complete me as much as they can. Nobody will have a more wholesome, beautiful soul than you. I'm unworthy of you. You already know that. But I'm ready to be free. I am so ready. I know this because I was loved. I'm realizing this too late, but you love me. YOU LOVE ME. You love me more than I can imagine. But you love me. I was loved._

_Isn't it a shame that the both of us can't be free at the same time, Jake? Freedom's like a pendulum: it only goes back and forth. It's not fair. Then again, what is?_

_At least one part of my broken mind lets me enjoy something. I can imagine. Come up with fantasies. In an alternate reality, I would be so in love with you, in all the right ways, at the right time._

_I just want you. I need you. This isn't even you're fault. This is all me. But I need you, Jake. You're not a drug to me. I'm not addicted to you and you don't destroy me. You're healthy for me. You're natural for me. You're like the sun. You don't need me to tell you this, but I always will: you are like my own personal sun. I'm never going to be able to leave you alone. I can't. I tried once. It didn't work._

_You helped me, Jacob. You healed me in some ways that I can't even explain, but at the same time, I'm still broken. I'm up at four A.M. about to commit suicide, aren't I? I'm broken—beyond broken. I'm never going to be okay again. But you know what? You tried. You worked your ass off._

_I just want you to take me. No, not like that. Or maybe like that. Maybe. You're no superhero like Spider-Man or Iron Man (that's his name, right?), but you're MY hero. I wish you could just take me away from this torture. I yearn for the sound of your bike revving up to my house. I can imagine you right outside my window again, standing there like you're here to save me. I just want to be with you. I want you to put me onto your shiny, black motorcycle and ride. Just ride. We'd have nowhere to go. Nowhere to be except for a place with each other. Maybe we can get married. That's legal in Vegas for sixteen-year-olds, right? I want nothing more than to be with you. I really am a total romantic. I guess this is just what humans do. Let's be human. I just want to be with you and kiss you really hard in the pouring rain. (Lana Del Whoever line again; another good song. Angela made me borrow the entire album.)_

_I am in love with you, Jacob. Hopelessly, genuinely in love with you. And the thing is, I'm only hopeless because I'm in the way of everything. You're not; it's all me. I swear. If only I could tell you, though._

_There's always an "if only" with me. Do you ever get sick of that? I hope not._

_As of now, I'm out of words. You know my story now. You know how I feel. That doesn't change anything, but now you know. Save me a seat in heaven if I make it._

_Baby, you're the best,_

_Bella_

*.*.*

She'd loved me.

_She'd loved me._

It wasn't impossible to fall even more in love but be even more hurt by a dead person…

…Was it?

* * *

I sat in my room for minutes. Or hours. Or days. I didn't move. I couldn't move.

Have you ever been so hurt that you didn't know what to do? Not just a little bummed, but like your heart had literally split, and you feel like you're going to double over in torture at any given moment?

I could be burned alive. Sawed in half. Submerged into acid. All three. Those things could happen to me, but it would be nothing compared to what I was feeling now. Nothing at all.

The only thing worse than the love of your life dying in front of you is knowing that you didn't fight your hardest.

I'd come full circle.

* * *

I hadn't meant to leave my house.

I hadn't meant to even stand up. I hadn't meant to move.

I hadn't meant to run away. I hadn't meant to run and run and _run_ in human form to try to escape. I hadn't meant to _not_ phase.

I hadn't meant to hurt myself or my friends or my dad. I hadn't meant to stupidly throw myself in front of a bus and have it smash right into me.

But I also hadn't meant to live.

* * *

_Oh, God, if this is another one of these stupid dreams with the stupid ghost with the stupid flowers in her hair, I swear I'm gonna—_

_Wait._

_I am standing on a cliff. Not just any cliff. I'm standing on THE cliff. I just lost the redheaded leech. So close. I look to my left, and bam. Bella's blue jacket. THE blue jacket. _

_It's too late for the vampire, but it's not too late for Bella. Not this time._

_I don't hesitate to fling myself off the cliff. I have to find her. I have to find her. I have to find her. I need to be her hero. I need to be the hero this time instead of the poor, pathetic victim._

_I find her, just like how I found her in real life, not dream life. I swim with all my power and nearly burn my lungs, but I drag her to the shore, stopping at the edge of the water. I push on her chest. Water floods from her mouth. I keep pushing and the water keeps coming out._

"_Breathe," I manage to say in a choked sob. "Breathe, honey. Please."_

_Nothing happens._

_I lost—again._

_I give up on the pushing and put my mouth to hers, with my little knowledge of CPR. I'm desperate. I'm frantic. I'm okay with that. I just need her back._

_And something happens._

_Her eyes flutter open. She's gasping and crying. Hyperventilating that she's alive. Or worse: she thinks she's dead._

"_Oh God," she breathes, "I'm dead. Finally."_

_I shake my head. "No. Bella, you're not dead. You're here. With me."_

"_I am?" she mumbles._

"_Yes, honey."_

_Then I kiss her. I kiss her fragilely, my lips molding to her unmoving ones. I'm not afraid of her. I'm not afraid of anything anymore. If I can see her die right in front of me, I can do anything._

_And she's not afraid anymore, either._

_The kiss was defining or something. It's like in the Snow White story. The kiss of life. Only I'm no prince. I'm nothing. I am merely nothing but a soul if that been taken away yet. I'm nothing without Bella. I don't wanna be anything without her._

_I don't have to be without her. I saved her. She saved me._

_Bella gasps, sits up, and kisses me back, nearly knocking the wind out of me. She grabs my hair and pulls me closer to her. She's cold to the touch, and sweet to the taste. She is the sweetest thing ever—and she's mine._

_As I kiss her, I whisper against her lips, "Bells, you're perfect. You're everything."_

_That's when she pulls away. She shakes her head, the tears running down her beautiful face. "I'm not perfect," she tells me. "You're not perfect. But we're perfect, together. I love you, Jacob. I love you so fucking much."_

_And you know what?_

_I believe her._

_She smashes her lips against mine, and I can't fight it. I can't fight Bella Swan, ever. We kiss so much that we're about to swallow each other whole. I can feel her blood pulsing everywhere, all through her body. She is warm. She is free._

_We are free, but we are also one._

_She pulls back and looks at me. _

_New. Shiny. Beautiful. Perfect._

_Such a blessing._

_"I love you," I tell her. "I love you so much, Bells. You're all I've ever needed. All of it. You... you are perfect to me. You are amazing. You are beautiful. Don't worry about a thing. Don't be afraid. Don't be ashamed. Baby, you don't have to live your life in fear. You're perfect. You're perfect, honey. I love you." _

_She continues to stare at me as I ramble on like the lovestruck idiot that I am, and heaven is in her eyes. I am Bella's heaven. I am her paradise, no matter how dark or complicated I can get. I know this because she never gave up on me. She gave me hope—false hope, albeit—but she never gave up on me, and I never gave up on her. We can't be without each other._

_When I continue to stare at her, I know she sees the same thing in my own eyes. She's heaven to me; I am heaven to her. I see heaven in her beautiful, familiar, chocolate brown pools of perfection. I don't see fear or regret loathing or anything like that. I see love._

_And with that look, I'm home. _

_It's like I never left._

"_Jacob," she says, "I love you. You are so worth it. And nothing scares me anymore." Tears continue to flow from her eyes, and I wipe them away. She wipes one tear away herself, keeping one hand on me, and laughs. "This is silly. Fear is silly. You are perfect to me, too."_

_The sun is now shining and as I look at Bella, it's like I'm imprinting on her. She's glowing. And it's like she's imprinting back. She looks at me like she can peer into my soul, and she likes what she sees._

"_You don't have to be alone," I whisper. "You don't have to be afraid."_

_"I don't want to be alone or afraid," she murmurs. "But why do you say that?"_

_"Because I'm gonna fight for you. I'm gonna fight harder. If I didn't fight for the things that I love, who would I be?" I asked._

_She bites her lip. Just as sexy as I remember it. "You'd be different," she answers. "You wouldn't be worth it."_

_"Exactly."_

"_I want to be strong," she whispers. "I want to be as strong as you are."_

_I hold her tight at the waist. "Oh, baby, you have no idea. You ARE strong. You ARE worth it."_

"_You're perfect, Jake."_

"_I don't wanna be."_

"_We're doing too much talking."_

_She presses her body to mine and kisses me again. Her lips explore my lips, my nose, my cheeks, my ears… She peppers her kisses all across my face as I feel her skin. Her soft, silky skin. I missed it._

"_I'm not afraid," she whispers into my skin. "You're worth it. I'm worth it. I'm yours."_

"_Always. Kwop kilawtley."_

"_Forever. Plus que ma propre vie."_

_What she said isn't Quileute, and I don't speak French, but I know it means well._

_Bella made me strong._

* * *

"Hey, look," someone said quietly. "He's waking up. He's fidgeting around."

I opened my eyes slowly, and I regretted it immediately. None of these people were Bella.

I was surrounded by the entire pack and their parents. Old Quil was there, too. Anybody who ever gave a shit about me on the rez was here. Even the manager at the store I used to work at was here, and I frequently forgot his name.

Embry and my father were the closest to me. I looked around, and when I could see past all the people, I saw that we were all in my tiny, cramped room. It was beyond cramped now. I looked down at my body, and I was all stitched up. In casts, too. One on my left arm, one on my right leg.

"I hear he's awake now?" a voice said. The many guests moved out the way so the new person could make their way to me.

And he was a fucking vampire.

The man approached me, and he had this annoying smile on this face, almost as bad as his smell. I wanted to punch him for it. He had blond hair and golden eyes. Oh, God, was he really a Cullen? If he was a Cullen I was going to—

"Hello, Jacob," he greeted me. "I'm Doctor Carlisle Cullen."

* * *

Yeah, they got a leech to take care of my broken ribs and broken leg and broken arm and cut up stomach and chest. It was unnecessary, in my opinion; I healed fast, anyway. I'd be up and running in a couple of days.

But according to my dad, Dr. Cullen was "only here to help." Why would he help the kid that killed his own kids? I had no idea. He probably wanted something. He was probably back to kill me. I wouldn't be surprised if he managed to put poison in my medication.

He wasn't at my house for long, but he'd left just as peacefully as he'd arrived. The pack didn't give him any shit; he didn't give the pack any shit. I couldn't understand why he'd wanted to help me. I'd personally killed Edward and let the pack kill Alice. There was nothing Carlisle owed me.

Or maybe his family was happy to be rid of Edward. Maybe Dr. Fang's treatment of me was genuine.

I would never know.

I just wanted to go out and get try to kill myself again. This bus gig hadn't worked out. It was just a big mess for me to clean up. Or maybe I could go straight to rehab. And if rehab wouldn't work, then happiness was the last option I had.

Well, shit—at least I'd tried.

* * *

_**A/N: **Oh, boy. How was that? I promise, guys, this is the last "OH MAH GOD, SO DEPRESSING" chapter of the story. SPOILER: Jake will actually be happy for a while. I love Angst-Jake, but I gotta let him be a little happy. Who shall provide that happiness? Stay tuned!_

_HAPPY HAPPY HOLIDAYS! *hugs hugs hugs* Hopefully Santa will give me Taylor Lautner for Christmas, ;)_

_MTL. ex-o-ex-o._


	12. Chapter Twelve

_**A/N: **Hey! I'm finally back. I haven't updated this fanfic since LAST YEAR. *knee slap* But I'm back. I know, I know. I'm such a mess. I wrote three one-shots before returning to this. It was kind of hard to write this chapter, since it's actually kind of happy. No more weeklong delays, though, unless something big happens. There are only five chapters left. Yeah, this is a dense, ugly fanfic. So from where we left off, Jacob read the last letter and it hit him hard. He also got hit hard by a bus, but he lived. And now he wants to be happy. So he's gonna be happy, for a little while. Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

It didn't take long for me to heal, physically. Not at all. Laying in bed for days wasn't enjoyable, though. Sure, I could do it for days when I was perfectly capable of doing other things, but when I was actually injured? Nah. I'd started getting cabin fever. I didn't know what I was so… _excited_ to do. I had nothing to look forward to. I hadn't made plans with anyone.

Or maybe I did have plans.

On the day I was fully healed, I came to the conclusion that I wanted to be happy. I wanted to actually be happy.

Laying in bed for those days had given me a lot of thinking time. Spending a whole day—that first day of healing—talking with my dad gave me things to think about. He'd told me that he was beyond worried about me. That he wanted me to straighten up and get better. He wasn't gonna push me, because that never worked, but he wanted me to get better. He joked about having his "Charlie moment," since Charlie had tried this with Bella, but neither Billy nor Charlie wanted me to end up how Bella had. Charlie thought of me as his own son, and in a way, I kind of was. I was his obnoxious, moronic, rebellious son that didn't know what to do. But I knew what I wanted to do now. Oh, I knew, alright.

I really did want to be happy. I needed to get a grip. I knew I couldn't get over Bella—still. I could never get over this. But I could certainly make the best out of it and at least try to be happy. As I laid in bed for those long, _long_ days, I'd also thought about Embry. He wanted me to be happy. He'd told me that I needed to try, and that thinking of happy times with Bella would help. I couldn't ignore her; I could only think happy thoughts about her. I could live in a fantasy some more, and make some stuff up. The beach dream in my coma (or was it a coma? I didn't know) was nice.

I was probably annoying the shit out of everybody. No wonder my father didn't want to be around me until I was hit by that bus—I was boring as dirt!

But not anymore. Nope. I was fully healed a week and one day after I was hit by the bus (now _that_ was a story that would live on the rez forever), and on that first Saturday in April, I felt like I could fly. For the first time in reality after such a long time, I felt okay. I showered and got dressed and ate breakfast, and I felt good. I felt great.

I didn't want to call Embry; I wanted to run over to his house and apologize for being such an ass in reaction to his honesty. That's what I would do. I would beg for his forgiveness.

I started walking down the empty, open road, and the breeze was refreshing. I hadn't felt like this since Paul's party, and that was because I was alone and being alone had felt nice. But not this time. Being alone was dangerous for me now. I didn't wanna be alone anymore.

Embry was home. Well, not _in_ his home, but in his backyard, mowing the grass.

"What's up?" I asked with a smile, standing by his backdoor.

With utter surprise and confusion on his face, he cut off the engine and walked over to me, looking at me like I was an alien or something.

"What, is there something on my face?" I asked.

"Yeah," Embry replied, his eyes wide. "A smile."

My grin grew bigger. "Well, I'm glad."

* * *

"So you promise you're not gonna hide in your house anymore?" Embry asked. He'd put the lawnmower away started walking with me to the beach. I could smell the salty breeze of the ocean, and it felt like I was breathing—really _breathing_—for the first time.

"I promise," I told him. "Seriously. I'm tired of hiding. I missed the sun."

"We all missed you, Jake," Embry said.

"Nah, you're just saying that," I disagreed. "I bet none of you knew I was gone."

"We did," he said surely. "And, man… when you got hit by that bus, everyone broke down. Paul almost cried."

"The same Paul who doesn't cry for shit?" I asked.

"Well, you were some special shit," Embry said, "because he almost cried when you weren't waking up. Leah cried herself an ocean."

"Okay, _now_ you're kidding," I said. "Leah didn't cry over me."

"Really! Leah fucking Clearwater cried over you. She loves you, man."

_Okay, no. _"Leah doesn't love me," I disagreed. "You kissed her back when we went to the movies."

"Ugh," Embry groaned. "Don't remind me. She hated it. And you know why? Because she loves _you._ Well, shit, at least I tried."

"What, do you like Leah or something?" I asked him. "Because that would be weird."

Embry started to say something, but then he stopped himself. "No," he finally said. "I don't."

I wished I could believe him.

* * *

"Woo!" Quil hooted as he approached me and Embry on the beach an hour later that day. "Is that Jacob Black I see?"

Embry and I laughed. "The new and improved," Embry replied.

"Excellent," Quil said with a grin. "The three musketeers are back! By the way, we're all planning on hanging out here today. Like, have a picnic or something."

"Who's going?" I asked. "The pack?"

Quil nodded. "And the imprints, too."

Embry groaned. "You were doing so well until you said that."

"What?" Quil looked genuinely confused.

"Not mentioning Claire and all," Embry clarified. "Well, shit, I mentioned her. Is she coming?"

Quil's expression was as if Embry had asked why the sky was blue, or why grass was green. "Why wouldn't she?"

Embry sighed. "Nevermind, nevermind."

At that moment I remembered that Quil had imprinted on Claire Young, Emily's niece. It wouldn't have been a problem if it weren't for the fact that she was two years old. Emily had thrown a fit. Ugh.

I would be happy today, though. Happiness was the key to everything. I needed it.

* * *

By lunch time, the entire pack and the imprints were at the beach. Plenty of food, plenty of fun. Sam and Emily were happy, or they at least pretended to be since, apparently, Emily's pregnancy had hit them hard. Jared and Kim couldn't even keep their hands away from each other. It was almost sickening. With Quil hanging out with Claire, that left the pack equivalence to the losers' table missing one person. Leah filled that void and stuck around with Embry, Seth, and I.

Being with my friends made me happier. They accepted me like I'd never been through that terrible grief phase. I didn't wanna grieve anymore. I wanted to _breathe_. And I was able to.

I threw a Frisbee around with my friends, and Seth noticed I kept passing it to Leah. Inadvertently, of course.

"Jeez, Jake," he called to me as Leah passed it to him. "You gonna throw the disk at anyone that's not Leah anytime soon."

"Nah, man," I replied with a smile. "I'm just warmin' up."

Leah laughed. "Nice of you to finally give me the time of day," she said to me.

I laughed, too. "Of course."

* * *

We spent all day at the beach, just eating and laughing and playing around and talking. That was when I realized that that was what I was supposed to be doing, how I was supposed to be living. The pack really was a lot of fun when there weren't vampires around.

Once the sky finally fell dark, Sam, Paul, and I started a bonfire. After it was lit, everybody sat around it. I looked around the circle of my friends—no, my _family_.

And sitting right next to Leah Clearwater was where I belonged. She wasn't family. She wasn't a friend, either. She was special to me. Those full, thick lashes got me every time. Especially now.

As Paul told one of his lame scary stories, I reached for her Leah's hand inadvertently. It was like I didn't have to think about it, like it was as easy as breathing, but then I kind of pulled away. Lingered. She looked at me with a confused expression on her face, but then I remembered something.

_Leah is warm. Leah is alive and healthy and breathing. Leah isn't broken. Leah is good._

And with that, I smiled at her and grasped her hand in mine. She smiled back and gave my hand a squeeze.

_Leah is warm. I like the warmth._

* * *

I was glad that Embry had claimed to not like Leah, because for the rest of the night we stayed together, fingers interlaced. So what if we were rushing a bit? I wanted to be happy, and most importantly, _she_ wanted me to be happy. Getting a grip and just hanging on for the ride was what I was trying to do. And with Leah, I was succeeding.

A thousand pounds of heavy chains—the chains of the fear and anger I used to have—had been lifted off me. I felt light on my feet. And as we left the beach at nearly midnight, I felt like I could fly. You know why?

Leah kissed me.

Leah Clearwater fucking kissed me.

She stopped me in my tracks as we started to walk home, and put her lips to mine and kissed me hard. She wasn't in any mood to take things slow, and, hell, neither was I.

That kiss was mind-blowing. Nearly knocked me off my feet. It was as sweet and honest as cinnamon. It was fucking perfect.

The world around us spun slowly—or maybe we had just stopped and the world was whirring around quickly—and I put my hands up to her cheeks as her hands were on my back.

I could hear Paul hooting in the background. I would have told him to shut up if Leah hadn't first and then returned to kiss me.

With those kisses that Leah gave me and the kisses I returned, I knew that we understood each other. We'd both been hurt by other people. We'd both loved and lost. Loved other people, lost our innocence. In the midst of all that losing, we'd found each other.

I didn't want to lose Leah. I _couldn't_ lose Leah.

It was like imprinting without the actual imprinting. I immediately felt this bond to her. If I hadn't had my head in the clouds for so long, this would have probably happened a long time ago. I could trust Leah. And I wanted to take care of her just as much as she wanted to take care of me. We were so alike.

She gave me one last kiss, and then she pulled away and looked at me with this look of… _knowing_. Belonging. We belonged together. Cheesy as hell, but that was it. We were natural together. She took my hands in hers, and I knew that this good. This was real. Leah wasn't a fantasy that I was obsessed with; she was a reality.

_Leah is warm. I like the warmth._

* * *

_**A/N: **Now I know all three of you guys wanna probably hit me. "What is this Blackwater madness!? This is a Jella story!" Well, it is a Jella story. It is. I mean, it's a deathfic, but it's still a Jella story. Think of this as a flipped around New Moon. Jacob is in Bella's place, and Bella is in Edward's place, but Leah is in Jacob's place. Mindfuck and a half, amirite.  
_

_I plan on posting the next chapter later, since it's not really a huge chapter, so stay tuned._

_Happy New Year!_

_MTL. xoxo_


	13. Chapter Thirteen

_**A/N: **Hey, guys. I'm gonna post two chapters today. They're both fairly short. So, anyway, I don't have much to say, except, here is chapter thirteen of Gods and Monsters. I promise, this is still a Bella/Jacob story. Oh, and Master Gaga. This is for you. No need to worry anymore._

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

Guess who was the lucky bastard who got to date Leah Clearwater?

That's right. Me. Jacob Black. I was dating Leah.

I didn't have to ask her to date me. It came naturally. After the First Beach date (was that what that was? A date?), we just hung out more and more. It became a natural habit for me to go to Leah's house, or meet her at the beach. I never got sick of her, and surprisingly, she never got sick of me.

Three weeks after she kissed me on the beach, that last Saturday in April, she asked me something serious, for the first time. We were at my house, and nobody else was home.

"Jake, do you really love me?" she asked. "I mean, because if you don't, you should tell me right now."

"Leah, of course I love you," I told her. It was kind of true. I did love her—I loved her to death—but I wasn't sure why. Maybe it was just because she was different from Bella. Leah wasn't my dream girl, but she was my reality girl. I needed reality right now.

She smiled in a relived sort of way. "Okay, good."

"Why were you worrying?" I asked.

"Because I know you've been hurt," she replied, "and I wanted to know if what you feel for me is real, and not just because you're trying to numb the pain. I don't want you to lie to yourself or lie to me."

_Well, shit._

"I'm not, babe," I told her.

"How do I know for sure?"

I leaned closer to her. "I'll tell you,"—I kissed one side of her neck—"everyday,"—I kissed the other side of her neck—"how much I love you." I then took her hand and kissed the back of it. "Because I really do, Leah."

"Damn, Jake," she said, her eyes wide, "this is the sappiest you've ever been around me."

"You can expect me to be a whole lot sappier, Lee."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

I gave her hand a squeeze, and in that instant I felt that Leah was warm—maybe a little too warm, too much like myself—and I knew that we'd be okay. If not… then, shit, at least we tried.

* * *

Being with Leah was so easy because we already knew each other. We'd known each other for years. There wasn't a moment in time that Leah _wasn't_ just down the street. I would have been friends with her if I hadn't already invested all of my seemingly endless time as a five-year-old with another girl.

I wasn't going to think about that other girl, though. I was going to think about Leah.

For a while, Leah and I did more of the same stuff. By the middle of May, it was easy to see that we were a couple. We'd done all the deeds (including _the_ deed), said all the words. Easy enough. Everybody knew it, and everybody talked about us. Not like we cared. We didn't need anybody, because we had each other. Enough said.

I just wasn't anticipating on the pack—specifically the loser table at lunch—to have a problem with it.

On Friday, May eighteenth, the boys finally told me they had a problem.

"Sorry, man," Quil told me as I set my lunch tray on the table and was about to sit down, "but your seat's taken."

"Oh, really?" I asked. "And by who?"

"Someone cleaner," Embry said with slight emphasis on the second word.

"Excuse me?" I turned to Seth for an explanation.

"You're entering virgin territory," he said to me. "You can't sit with us."

"Oh, wow, and who made up that?" I challenged.

"Why don't you go sit with your girlfriend and talk about how much sex you're gonna have?" Quil asked.

"Don't be jealous," I said, "and why don't you just shut up and—"

"You can't sit with us," Embry said in a deciding tone.

"What is this?" I asked. "_Mean Girls_? Me and Leah watched it last night."

"No, this is virgin territory," Quil replied. "So beat it."

I pulled out my chair and sat down. "How about you suck my dick?"

"How about you go to Leah over there and have her do it for ya?" Quil asked with a smirk. Seth blushed. Poor kid, having to hear about his big sister like this.

I turned to where Embry was staring at, and surprisingly, it was Leah. She was just getting out of the lunch line and making her way to the table that she usually sat at.

"Just go," Embry told me. "Unless you're too much of a pussy to sit with her in public. You've been dating for, like, a month and a half and you still don't sit with her at lunch."

That wasn't even my fault. She liked to sit alone at lunch and read, every single day. I didn't say that, though.

Taking Embry's challenge, I got up and took my tray with me. "Have fun walking home, then," I told them over my shoulder.

I made a point to set my tray down in front of Leah, who was now sitting down and opening her carton of milk, but I didn't sit down and eat with her. Instead, I leaned across the table and kissed her really hard. She wasn't surprised; it was like she appreciated the random displays of affection I gave her. When I pulled away, I smiled at her and then sat down in my chair. I turned to Quil and mouthed, "Alpha move."

I sat with Leah that entire lunch period, _and_ I walked her to her next class. I would even take her out tomorrow, even though I'd planned on playing video games alone. Anything for my wolf girl.

* * *

_I'm gonna jump off a cliff today._

That was my first thought of the next day, Saturday. I was going to jump off a cliff, only I planned on living, and I wasn't going to do it alone. Since the ghost didn't bother me that much anymore, I assumed that she was happy that I was happy. Today I was really gonna be happy. If I couldn't have cliff-dived with Bella, then hell, I was gonna go with Leah.

Later than morning, Leah and I drove to the beach and then we hiked up to a tall cliff. It had to be the tallest cliff in La Push. I looked around, and couldn't find a higher point.

"You sure we're gonna do this?" Leah asked, looking down. It was a pretty long fall.

I had to do this. I just had to. It wasn't to avenge Bella—I was tired of avenging her and hurting myself in the process. It wasn't to mimic Bella, either—I didn't want to die, and today was a good day. It was May. It was warm. It was natural and sunny and a pretty perfect day. The first perfect day I'd seen since Bella died. This wasn't to avenge Bella or mimic her or anything like that—this was _for_ Bella. She wanted me to be happy, so here I was.

I turned to Leah. "I'm positive," I replied.

I stripped down to my underwear and Leah did the same. "Climbing up here in wet underwear to retrieve our clothes is going to make us look stupid," she said.

"Baby, who cares if we look stupid?" I asked. "How many times am I gonna be able to say that I went cliff-diving with the woman I love on this beautiful day? How many times am I gonna be able to say that for one day, I didn't give one fuck in the world? You know what I live by now, Leah? 'Live fast, die young, be wild, and have fun.' That's what."

"Okay, poet," she said, laughing. "I'm convinced. Let's do this."

She grabbed my hand and squeezed it so hard that I couldn't let go. I squeezed hers back. "On three?" I asked.

She nodded. "One…"

"Two…"

"Three!" we both yelled as we jumped, hands still intertwined.

* * *

Leah and I were exhausted later. We spent the entire day at the beach. I took her back to her house at twilight and we crashed together on her couch. I wasn't sure how it was possible, but we did it. Her body snuggled onto mine, my hands wrapped around her, and I slept dreamlessly. Today had been a good-ass day.

She woke me up with her soft, sweet kisses peppering on my face. I blinked, waking up, and she smiled at me. "Hey," she said.

"Hey," I sighed. "What time's it?"

"Does it matter? Nobody's home."

"Seriously?"

"Nobody was here when we got here, either."

"In that case…" I put my lips to hers and sat up on the couch. With her lips still on mine, she moved to my lap.

"God, I love you so fucking much," she moaned. "I love you way more than those bitches before you."

"Back at ya, babe," I panted. "This couch is too small, though."

She pulled away and looked at me. "I agree," she breathed. Then she stood up and smoothed out her shirt. "Let's take this to my room."

"You think I'm just gonna let you walk there?" I asked. "Control freak."

"Excuse you?"

I stood up and lifted her, wrapping her hips around my waist. "This is better," I said, carrying her to her bedroom.

"Jacob Black," she warned me, "if you drop me—"

"You'll land right on your feet," I concluded. "Cat-like reflexes, remember?"

"I'm not a cat," she said. "We're wolves."

"Same thing but different, am I right?"

She chuckled. "No."

I kicked open the door to her bedroom and set her down on her soft bed. "We better make this quick," she said. "It's, like, five now. I think my parents will be home soon."

"Where's Seth?" I asked.

"Probably with Embry and Quil. Why?"

"It'd be a little shocking for him to walk in on us fucking, huh?"

"Yeah, just a little," she said. I climbed onto the bed and pressed my lips to hers.

"Mmm," I moaned. She grabbed my hair and kissed me harder.

"I love you, Jake," she said against my lips.

* * *

We were finished with more than enough time before her parents came home. Once we were cleaned up and dressed, we went to Paul's house. Lately, I could only trust Paul's words because he hadn't lost his mind to imprinting… yet.

"Everyone's at your house," he told me when I asked where everyone was. "How'd you not know?"

"I was busy," I said quickly.

He looked at Leah, who stood by my side with her hand in mine. "I'll say," he scoffed.

"Shut up," I said. "And thanks."

"Can I ride with you guys?" he asked. "I'm sick of being home bored."

"I thought you had a girlfriend," I said. "What happened to Julie?"

"She dumped me," he said with a shrug. "They always do."

"That sucks," Leah said.

"Yeah," I agreed. "You can ride with us. They're probably all waiting for us, anyway."

* * *

There wasn't a huge event going on at my house. Everyone was there, though. It was like a party of some sorts, and everybody was out in the backyard. The first thing I heard when I walked to the group (well, besides, "Hey, Jake") was Charlie talking to my dad.

"I don't know what to do with her stuff," he said. "I don't wanna touch any of it, but everything's there. Her laptop, her clothes… everything. And there are pictures of her all over the place. It's like she's left without leaving."

"We can help you get all that stuff out," Billy replied. "After we go fishing tomorrow, of course."

"Hey, Dad," I said. "Hey, Chief Swan."

I approached them, and they looked up at me like they didn't know I was coming. Leah broke away from me to go talk to Kim.

"Hey, Jake," Charlie greeted me easily. "Where have you been?"

I grabbed a chair from nearby and sat down in it, making myself comfortable. "Out," I replied just as easily.

"We were just wondering where you were," Billy added.

"No need to worry," I told him. "I'm good. How are you guys?"

"Pretty good," Charlie said after drinking the rest of his can of beer.

"Can you go get us some more beers?" Billy asked. "I'm parched."

"Alright," I replied, standing up. I had nothing to say, anyway.

I went to the kitchen, where I found Embry taking a bit of his sandwich, about to go to the backyard. I stopped him. "Dude," I said.

"What?"

I looked around the house. Nobody else was inside. "We've gotta do something tomorrow," I said.

"Why should I have to do anything for you?" he asked me.

"Because… because it's serious."

"Well, what do we gotta do?" he demanded.

"Don't be pissed, but… it's about Bella."

He rolled his eyes. "I am so done with you and that girl, Jake," he said. "I'm done with you, period. You don't give a fuck about anyone but Bella and—"

"Em, I need you," I told him. "Please."

He didn't move. He just stared at me in annoyance.

"Please?" I asked. "C'mon, man, I'm beggin' ya."

"Fine," he said. "But only because you're my friend."

I shook his hand. "Ride or die, fail or fly, right?"

"Right."

* * *

_**A/N: **And that was the thirteenth chapter. Spoiler: Blackwater won't be together as a couple for much longer. You'll see why in chapter fifteen. Anyway, I hope you liked it! I didn't get many responses to chapter twelve, lol. The next chapter will be up soon, so stay tuned!_

_Stay young, stay dope, stay proud (LDR reference),_

_MTL. xo_


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**_A/N: _**_Hey, guys. So I set you up for this chapter in the last one. I hope you'll like this one. I do. Enjoy! We've only got this chapter, three more, and an epilogue left! Oh, and if you missed chapter thirteen, go back to it._

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

"So you're telling me," Embry said the next morning as we met at my mailbox, "that we're gonna have to break into Charlie's house?"

"Exactly," I replied as we walked to the Rabbit. Charlie and Billy had already gone fishing. Now was the perfect time to go. "I know it sounds crazy, but we've gotta do it."

"What are we trying to find here, anyway?" he asked. I still couldn't believe that he'd gone with my plan.

"Bella's laptop," I replied. "I remember when… when Mike Newton told me that he sent Bella some videos. Like, before she—they, I mean—died."

"What's the importance of these videos?" he asked. "They're both dead. Why do you need them?"

The truth was, I didn't want to see another one of Mike's gross home videos. I'd just remembered last night that he'd sent Bella more videos, and if Charlie found one on Bella's laptop… then shit. I'd read the letter that accompanied Mike's suicide in the newspaper. He hadn't mentioned any recordings of Bella, so Charlie didn't know as of now. If he looked through Bella's laptop and there was something there, though, it'd kill him.

I sighed. Of course things had to be so complicated now. "If Charlie finds those videos," I finally answered, "he's gonna blow a gasket, and he won't be able to go after Mike Newton, on account of him already being dead."

"Oh, so you're protecting Charlie," he said.

"Yup."

"Let's go, then," he said, getting into the Rabbit. I got in, too, and started driving to Forks. On the way, I decided to tell Embry everything—the ghost, Edward, the letters, the video, _everything_—and I felt like a weight had been lifted from my chest when I was finished.

"Holy shit," Embry said. "That is fucking _tough_."

"Aren't you glad I told you, though?" I asked.

"Am I ever! What are you gonna do about the ghost?"

"What do I look like?" I replied. "A Ghostbuster? I don't know what I'm supposed to do. The ghost hasn't bothered me since… since a little bit before I got hit by that bus. But I know she's gonna bother me again. I just know it."

"I read somewhere that ghosts are more tempted to stick around the place they died when pictures of them are still around," he said. "Do you still keep pictures of her in your house?"

"I only have, like, one," I replied. "But Charlie's house has a bunch of them. He's gonna get rid of all her junk later, but for now, I have to clean up her laptop."

"If Charlie finds a video of Mike raping Bella, he's gonna freak."

"Exactly. And that's why we've gotta look through her laptop."

"Did you only ask me to help you because I'm a computer nerd?" he asked.

"That, and because you're my best friend," I replied. "Easy as that."

I pulled up to Charlie's house, and the Cruiser wasn't there. I got out of the Rabbit and Embry followed me.

"I doubt his door's unlocked," Embry said.

"Same," I replied. "Bella's window is always open, though." I walked to the side of the house and started climbing the tree. I looked down when I was halfway up, and Embry was still standing in the grass. "What are you waiting for?" I asked.

"How do you know her window's always open?" he asked me.

"I went there a couple of times," I replied. "The end. Are you coming or not?"

"Nah, man, there's something about going into dead girls' bedrooms... I'll stay down here and keep lookout."

"Fine."

"Hurry up."

I climbed the rest of the way and swung myself into the open window. I couldn't blame Charlie for not having closed it. I couldn't blame him for not even wanting to go into the room.

The bedroom hadn't been touched at all. And despite having the window open for months, it still smelled like Bella. That strange scent of honey and lavender made the room reek. I felt sick. I wanted to throw up. Not today, though. I just needed to get the laptop and get my ass out.

I looked around the room, and sitting on her desk was her closed laptop. I grabbed it and went to the window, where Embry was standing right under it.

"Can I trust you to catch this?" I asked him.

"I'm the sleekest member of the pack," he reminded me. "I'm pretty sure I can catch a little laptop." He held out his arms, and I let go of the laptop into his arms. He caught it with no problem, and I climbed out of the window and dropped right next to Embry.

"Let's hope it's not dead," Embry muttered.

* * *

I drove us to the Forks library next, simply because it was close by and we would probably need the Wi-Fi. We sat at a small table and I carefully opened the laptop. Everything was going fine until—

"Shit, it requires a password," I said a little too loudly for a library. I heard someone shush me.

"I know," Embry whispered. "So shut up and think."

I took a moment to think, and I finally came up with the idea that he password could have been "Cullen." No such luck.

"What did she like?" Embry asked me. "What was her favorite food?"

"She didn't eat a lot."

"Fine. Then what was her favorite song?"

"She didn't listen to music."

"What the fuck did she like, Jake?"

I tried cheesy passwords like "love," "bellaswan," "edwardcullen," "forks," "phoenix," and a thousand other things, but none of them work. On the brink of insanity, I tried the password, "jacob."

_Bam_.

I was logged in.

"Whoa," Embry said. "She really did love you."

I nodded. "Hard to believe, huh?"

"Yeah. Let me see the computer."

I looked at him and shook my head no.

"I'm the computer nerd, remember?" he reminded me. "Let me see it."

"Fine." I slid the laptop over to him. He started clicking and scrolling through the files—or the lack thereof.

"Why isn't there anything there?" I asked.

"I can't believe it," he said. "It's clean."

"Did that happen when I dropped it?"

"No, no, Jake." He looked at me. "The hard drive is completely clean. It's like she had all this stuff on it, wiped out the hard drive, and then set a password on it."

"What if it happened by accident?" I asked. "That could have happened, right?"

"Jake, I don't think she wanted you or Charlie to see. There was obviously some stuff on it. She wouldn't have cleared the hard drive."

I sighed and sat back in my chair. "Well, shit."

"I know. Ugh. Sorry, man." He sat back in his chair, too.

"Thanks, anyway," I told him. "I couldn't have done nothing without ya, pal."

"Just another service provided by your friendly neighborhood computer nerd."

I chuckled.

"Can I ask you an honest question?" he began.

"You just did," I replied.

"Okay, smart-ass, I'm gonna ask you _another_ honest question."

"Shoot."

"Why are you keeping it in the pack?" he asked seriously.

I turned to him. "What are you talking about?"

"You dating Leah? Really, Jake?"

"You and the other guys have really been getting on my back about that," I said. "It pisses me off."

"How serious are you and Leah, anyway?" he wondered.

"Serious enough. I'm just not gonna marry her, Embry. Why do you care?"

He sighed. "I just don't get meaningless sex, that's all. I mean, any guy would be lucky as hell to have Leah."

"Why'd you tell me you didn't like her?" I asked. "If you like her, don't lie and say you don't."

"I… I love her." My eyes widened. "As a friend," he corrected. "I mean, when you were all depressed and Quil imprinted, I spent a _lot_ of time with Leah. More than I already did. She's all I had. And, man… She's a great girl. Don't hurt her, though."

"I won't," I said. "I know she'd only hurt me worse."

"You've got that right," he agreed.

For the rest of that day, I wondered if I really deserved Leah.

* * *

_**A/N: **And there you have it. Chapter fourteen. I want to get chapter fifteen up by the end of the weekend. We'll see. Thanks for reading! I love you guys._

_Don't enter the land of gods and monsters (another Lana reference, aha),_

_MTL. xo_


	15. Chapter Fifteen

_**A/N: **I'm finally, finally, finally back. I've been so busy. The return to school really hit me hard. Man. So I'm trying my best. I've been reading and beta-reading and writing the sequel to Youth Knows No Pain... I almost forgot about this! It's almost over, though. Woo. Here's chapter 15. Enjoy._

**_Contains: _**_More angst (!)_

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**_  
_

If I didn't think I deserved Leah Clearwater back then, I certainly didn't deserve her a few weeks later. Then again, I was an idiot. I was an asshole. I was a loser. No one deserved that. Not even Leah.

But wait.

I'm getting ahead of myself.

After that failure of a library trip with Embry, I found myself thinking more and more on what he'd told me. Who would've thought his advice would stick? Not me.

It wasn't like I couldn't think of Bella. I mean, sure, the ghost was scary, but she was barely bothering me anymore, and when she did, she never did anything to purposely hurt me.

So I thought of her. Not the ghost. The real girl. Embry had told me that I could just think about the good times I'd had with her. That wouldn't do any harm. It _didn't_ do any harm. I felt myself happier and happier, which only made Leah happier and happier.

After the first week of doing that, I started to get more creative. I'd been pretty damn happy with Bella, but I'd already gone through those memories. Who was to say that I couldn't make some stuff up? Who was to say that I couldn't unleash my imagination and let it run wild? Who was to say that I, Jacob fucking Black, couldn't produce a false—almost selfish, really—happiness to add on to my already genuine (or was it really?) happiness with Leah?

And who was to say that I couldn't imagine all these Bella fantasies when I was _with_ Leah?

It wasn't like I couldn't keep my thoughts inside my head… well, at least for a little while.

For the little while that I _could_, though, it made things even easier. It was already easy to be with Leah; she had a temper, but not that much around me. Thinking of the things I would do with Bella as I did them with Leah, though… even better. I wasn't hallucinating about Bella—that would have been weird. I was just… imagining her, with me. A few times, I imagined so much, and she nearly fucking appeared. Had me thinking I was taking something.

The little phantasm had been gone for a while, but of course it had to return just fucking _now_, as I was at Leah's house, in Leah's bed, making Leah—

_Wait._

_Wait a fucking second._

The smell. It was the fucking smell. The terrible lavender and honey smell that I could sense in two seconds. I knew that wasn't Leah. Definitely not Leah.

And I heard something. It didn't come from Leah—it didn't come from anywhere but my mind. I knew that I was just imagining it all, like how I imagined everything else, but this… this was crazy. You know what that voice said?

_Be happy._

And you know what Leah sighed at that _exact same moment?_

"I love you, Jacob."

Cool. Great. Awesome. I could be happy. I could deal with Leah loving me. But you know what I—being the utter idiot that I was—sighed in response?

"Oh, Bella."

* * *

It was fair to say that I got my ass kicked. Too obvious. If I took a picture of my ass and put it on the Internet or something, anyone could see the bruise and anyone would say that I, Jacob fucking Black, got my ass kicked.

After kicking me everywhere, slapping my face many times, and even breaking my nose, Leah—who had such a rage in her eyes that even scared _me_—took the time to actually throw my boxers at me and let me leave her house. Or so I thought.

As soon as I had my boxers on, Leah shoved me out of her front door, looking more pissed than ever, and that was saying something with Leah Clearwater.

"Leah," I said uneasily, "hear me out for a second. Please. Don't phase, though. _Please_ don't phase."

"You called me 'Bella'!" she said angrily. "You. Called. _Me_. 'Bella.' We were having sex and you called me by the name of the dead girl you're still in love with!"

"I'm sorry," I said, honestly scared to death. "Leah, it was an accident!"

Suddenly, tears filled her eyes. "An accident?" she repeated. "A fucking accident!? How could you call _me_ by the name of your ex-girlfriend on accident? Fuck, and I thought you really loved me."

"I do love you!"

"But not enough to call me by my own _name_, though?" she exploded. "I should have seen it coming. _Of course_ you only got to me because of _her_! Of course, Jake! What about me reminds you of her? Is it the temper? Or how about the fact that we're the only women in your life that actually put up with your shit, and now you've lost _both_ of them!?"

"Leah, please, let me explain. I'm begging you."

Now she was full on crying.

I had made Leah Clearwater cry. And it broke my heart.

"Don't cry, Lee-Lee," I said calmly, approaching her. Bad move. Way bad.

She shoved me away –hard—and with that, I was positive she was going to phase and try to tear me apart. But she only kept crying and screaming at me.

"Don't touch me! And DON'T call me Lee-Lee! I am not your Lee-Lee."

My heart kept breaking as I saw her continue to cry.

"I thought you loved me, Jacob Black," she whimpered. "I thought you were giving me a chance because you actually loved me. Since Bella came crashing into and ruining your life, you wouldn't even give me the time of day. I loved you, Jake. I really fucking loved you. And I was so sure that you loved me—"

"You know I love you!" I interjected with my arms out to her.

"Shut the fuck up!" she screamed. "You didn't love me! You loved _Bella_ and you thought getting to _me_ would fix your broken heart. News flash, Jake: it didn't work. Nothing's gonna fucking work for you because you're fucked up. And I was stupid enough to go with it all. I loved you to death. I tried to be happier, and I dressed better, and I got these stupid chestnut highlights in my hair that you never even noticed, and I even tried to lose some weight, all because of _you._" She was bawling now, and I knew better not to touch her.

"And you know something, Jake?" she asked. "While _you_ were out of everything, doing whatever the fuck, Embry asked me out and I told him no. I denied Embry—who is a hell of a better guy than you—all because of you. I thought you were really giving me a chance. I turned down Embry—Embry!—for you, and I know now that I made a huge mistake. Embry loves me. He really fucking loves me. And he told me something a while ago: he told me that you were probably just fucking _me_ because you couldn't fuck _her_, and I was the next best thing. I didn't believe Embry, and he was right! He was right! Man, I really loved you, Jake. But now, I don't care if you get over Bella. Just don't use me to try. You can drown in your misery, just like she did, for all I care. There's a cliff waiting for you."

I was speechless. Fucking speechless. I stood on her dirt lawn in my boxers, looking completely dumbfounded. Stupidly, I took a step forward, but I had nothing to say.

"Get the fuck away from me," Leah whispered, tears running down her delicate face. "And don't talk to me ever again."

She went back into her house and slammed the door shut.

* * *

Too pissed at myself to even feel embarrassed, I walked home in my boxers. Those were all that she'd left me, anyway. My junk bounced in all its Bella-loving glory. I didn't care.

_I am so fucked up._

It was hard to believe that I'd used to be a good kid. I couldn't even blame it all on phasing this time. Phasing had always been my go-to reason to be unhappy. Phasing was always the problem.

Only this time, I realized what the real problem was.

It was me.

It was me and foolishness with girls. Before I got serious—or tried to become serious—with girls, I'd been fine. But bam—once a girl was in the mix, I didn't know what to do. I hadn't known how to actually help Bella. I didn't know how to call Leah by her name. One thing was different, though.

With Bella, that wasn't my fault.

As I walked down the street at an easy pace in my boxers, ignoring the hollers from people I knew (and even some people I didn't really know), I was having this… this revelation.

Being wrong for Bella was not my fault. Bella killing herself was not my fault. Anything that had to do with Bella's death was not my fault.

I knew her story. I knew every part of it. She'd spilled her heart out to me… I'd seen the video… I'd seen or read just about everything and more that had to do with Bella's death. And none of it was my fault. I could recite the story forwards and backwards—even as I never wanted to—and it would still be the same.

I could also take a beating from Leah everyday. I'd get my ass kicked everyday of the week for a year straight if I had to, just for her to feel better. And that was because this situation with Leah _was_ my fault. I couldn't blame it all on a dead girl—that wouldn't be fair. Everything with Leah was my fault, and Leah Clearwater sure as hell was not Bella Swan.

Yet I'd tried to play it off like she was.

Ridiculous.

I eventually got home, and at least my dad wasn't there to question me. Quil and Embry were, though. They were sitting on my couch like they lived there, watching television.

"Who let you into my house?" was the first thing I asked. Quil turned around with a surprised expression on his face, which quickly turned into an obnoxious, impish grin.

"Who let you _out_ of your house?" he asked in response. "Dude, we're not patrolling anymore. You can wear clothes. Shorts, at least."

I tried to play it cool, so I shrugged. "I'm working on being a model in the future. So what?"

"Oh, shit, man," Quil said to Embry, who had also turned around on the couch. "You smell that?"

"I've smelled that for a long time now," Embry replied, "don't rub it in."

I rolled my eyes. "Come on, guys, get out."

"Wow, Jake, you sound kinda bummed," Quil observed. "What's wrong? Did Leah beat you up or something?"

"Please," Embry scoffed. "He wouldn't even be _alive_ if Leah beat him up."

I chuckled sourly. "You'd be surprised," I said. "She really fucking beat me up. I'm lucky I heal quickly."

"Oh, man!" Quil bellowed. "You've gotta tell me."

I shook my head. "Not until you leave first. I've gotta… I've gotta do some stuff."

Quil and Embry got up from the couch and left. Quil shoved me with his shoulder on the way out and I heard him mutter, "Weak."

So I _was_ weak. So what?

The second my friends were gone, I nearly had a fucking heart attack because a huge commotion had risen from the kitchen. Banging all over the place. I turned to the kitchen, and nothing had been moved.

_So we're gonna play this game again, Bella…_

I could take all the clattering. I could take it all. The ghost threw a lot of shit at me, continued to do so when I took a shower, and made the water run cold.

_Fuck it,_ I thought. _Nothing scares me anymore._

If I could take a damn werewolf kicking my ass over and over, I could definitely take light shit thrown at me from a ghost. Anyone else would be freaked out but nope. Not me. Not Jacob fucking Black. The crazy ghost could throw everything at me—I would never forgive her. Bella dying wasn't my fault at all, but this ghost needed to leave, and soon. If only I could find the words to say.

I tried to carry on through my day. It was Saturday—the first Saturday of June—and the day was still young. Leah had only kicked me out at about two or so. I could do some stuff by myself. I needed some time alone.

The stupid ghost, though, had other plans.

After having a wrench hurled at my head for the fourth time, I gave up. If my hallucination had been correct, then Bella should have wanted me to be happy. By that fourth blow to the head, I fell to my damn knees like the desperate fool that I was.

"_What do you want from me!?_" I wailed to the heavens. "_What the fuck do you want!?_"

I wouldn't know—Bella wouldn't leave me alone.

I fell asleep that night with my one framed picture of Bella clutched to my chest. Maybe crying over Bella was her interpretation of being happy. I could almost hear a faint howling of a wolf in the distance, but I wouldn't have noticed that much.

* * *

_**A/N:** __I know, I know, I know. You probably want to kick me. I KNOW. But things will be better. We're so close to the end, I swear. And Jake will have a decent ending, I think. It won't be particularly happy, since you can't really bring people back from the dead, but it'll be good for Jake. I promise. The last line will probably make you want to kick me even more, but really... it gets better for Jake._

_So, what did you think? Leave a review - they make me happy and they also make me write quicker. ;)_

_Lots of love and hopes for the new year,_

_MTL. xoxo_


	16. Chapter Sixteen & Epilogue

**_A/N:_**_ You guuuuys! This is it! I made an adjustment, and just merged chapter seventeen with the epilogue; they're basically the same thing. So here is the last chapter and epilogue of Gods and Monsters. It's been an interesting two months, huh? Enjoy, my lovelies!_

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen**

I continued to take the pain—both physical and emotional—from Bella for a week and one day after the stunt with Leah.

I didn't feel loved. I didn't feel happy.

I felt like absolute shit.

I left the house today, June tenth, to give Leah her things back. I mean, I could have returned her items any time she wanted them; she hadn't called or anything. I needed to breathe, though. It was funny how things could be going so well, and then before I knew it, life went to shit again. I didn't deserve this. I was a fucking moron at times, but I didn't deserve this. Nobody did.

Sticking to my gut, holding my ground, and with a damn smile on my face, too, I knocked on the front door of the Clearwater residence.

Seth answered with a somewhat delighted expression on his face. The happy little punk. "Hey, Jake," he greeted me. "What's all that for?" His eyes lowered to the cardboard box in my hands.

"For your sister," I replied. "Is she home?"

"Yeah, she is." He opened the door further. "Wanna come in?"

_And get pounced? _"Nah, I'll just wait here."

"Alright, she'll be at the door in a second."

Seth went back in the house, and I stared down at my feet. Man, I hoped she wouldn't be mad at me. A little over a week was enough time to cool off, right? Well, wrong. Leah wasn't one to cool off so quickly.

I was caught in my own nervous thoughts until I heard shuffling noises, and my pathetic inner monologue just threw itself out the window.

_Leah._

I looked up, and Leah Clearwater, standing in denim shorts and a tank top, was glowering at me. I deserved it. She was hurt—_again_. I could see all the pain in her eyes; those dark brown pools told more stories than I could even imagine.

In a way, though, the pain made her even more beautiful.

The pain made me want to love her the right way.

"What do you want?" she demanded.

"I—I—just—," I stammered. "I have all your things and I thought you'd want them back."

"I do," she said, her expression unchanging. "And I have yours, too." She walked to her kitchen's windowsill, as if she just kept all that stuff there, anyway, and picked up a teddy bear I given her. In fact, I'd won it for her. We'd gone to the Makah reservation once, and a type of carnival was going on. I could remember that night like it was yesterday. Leah and I had been walking around and I'd decided to try to win a teddy bear for her by playing a little balloon-and-darts game. There'd been nothing that big to win left, but I'd ended up getting Leah a little white bear with a red bow around its neck. And that same bear was what Leah was giving back to me now. It was the only thing she had—or wanted—to give back.

"Aw, Lee, what am I supposed to do with this?" I asked gently.

She shrugged. "Name it 'Bella'?"

_This again_. I sighed. "Leah, you know I'm sorry."

"I _do_ know," she agreed, "but it's a little hard to forgive someone for, don't you think?"

I nodded. "I guess that's fair." I handed her the box I held. "Here. All of this goes back to you."

She gave a small smirk. "Hm. You kept it all."

"'Course I did," I replied. "I couldn't just let it all go to waste."

"Nice."

I nodded again, looking straight into her eyes.

"Well, you should probably go," she told me after a little while. "You probably have better things to be doing."

"Alright," I replied. "See you at school?"

"We get out in a week and I'm taking college courses. Don't count on it."

"Fine." I backed out of the doorframe, and she was about to close the door, but I put my foot in the way.

"What now?" she asked sharply.

"I really am sorry," I reminded her, "but you don't have to forgive me right away."

"I know," she replied, "but maybe I won't."

I moved my foot out of the way and she swung the door closed right in my face.

* * *

When I got home, I felt a sense of… smugness in the air. And it wasn't even my own. As Bella's ghost continued to kick the hell out of me, I felt that it was because she was happy that my life was even worse now.

Only I knew I couldn't be a victim now.

_I would rather die than be a victim now._

The ghost must've gotten a kick out of my dad not being home (he was fishing with Charlie like he did nearly every Sunday), because she was destroying my entire house.

From the moment I walked in, a pan was launched at me, and I was only one swift move away from my face becoming a pancake. _Damn_, I wished it was possible to fight a ghost. I would have kicked its ass. This ghost wasn't a girl or a woman or anything—it was a monster, and it needed to go.

How would I find a way, though?

_The letters._

I frantically charged to my bedroom, and I slid the box of letters from under my bed. I should've gotten rid of the stupid things earlier. As various items were chucked at my back, constantly cutting me (I could feel the blood seeping through my t-shirt), I took the box and started leaving my room. Not only did it contain the letters, but it also had the disk with Mike's movie on it, and my one framed photo of Bella.

I slipped a lighter into my pocket on the way out.

The crazy ghost was destroying the entire house, knocking over everything and chucking anything it could at me. I was surprised it didn't fling the fucking refrigerator at me. I made it to the woods near my garage, though. After being hit repetitively, I could finally throw down the box, ignite the lighter, and throw it in. The box effectively caught on fire, but it wasn't over.

I could feel myself bruising, but I was not going to lose. I was tired of losing a war I never even wanted to fight. I could fight for Bella. I _did_ fight for Bella. I would _always_ fight for Bella. This unreasonable war with her ghost, though, was not fair. And it was not my fault, either.

"I am not a victim anymore," I said aloud. I continued to be hit by the ghost, but I didn't move. I just watched the box and its contents burn. "You can't hurt me anymore, Bella.

"You only scared me because I let you and you feed off my fear—that's the only way you gained power. But you know what? I'm not scared anymore. This is over. I am completely done with you Bella. You're gone."

I could feel tears stinging in my eyes, because telling Bella goodbye like this was hurting just as much as the last time, but I couldn't stop. "You're gone, honey. You can't bother me anymore. You've gotta see the light, baby. You… you don't belong here. I don't want to be hurt anymore. If you want me to be happy so much, then you have to leave. It is far past time to let me go, Bella."

No hits. No bruises. No pain.

"You'll find your way, honey. Now let me find mine."

I felt a cool air brush off me, and then a thousand weights being lifted. The biggest feeling of relief I ever had. I felt like I could fly. I could spread my wings and soar into the pink sky. There was no pain. No pain at all.

_Yes._

* * *

**Epilogue**

The seemingly endless war in my mind finally came to an end. I was tired of feeling like I was fucking crazy. I'd strived way too much, but I didn't have to anymore.

Life didn't become perfect, though. It didn't have to be. I didn't want my life to be perfect. It was how it was, and I didn't want to change it. I was just going to _ride_. There was nothing I valued more now than to be free. So maybe I did get something in the end. Something perfect.

I'd found freedom.

I couldn't regain my innocence, because once innocence was lost, it was lost forever. But freedom was just as good now. I felt like the luckiest man on the planet for that.

In the end, Leah and I didn't get back together, if it wasn't obvious enough. We remained "at a friendship level," as she frequently called it, and she probably didn't want to be with me again, anyway. I also wasn't about to make any more mistakes with her.

In fact, she started dating Embry. Within a month after me and Leah breaking up, she finally responded to Embry's old-fashioned requests for courtship, and now they were dating. Easily the happiest, non-imprinted couple that I'd seen.

With the other couples, Sam and Emily freaked out less about their baby; Emily freaked out less about Quil and Claire; and when Rachel came home in July, Paul imprinted on her. I hadn't thought it was very funny, but my dad did. "I'm praying for our refrigerator," he'd joked.

Pretty much everyone but me had found love, or at least survived their current ones, and I was grateful for that. I wasn't looking for love. Love—along with fame and liquor—has the power to change people, and I wasn't going to be next. Was there a crime in trying to think about myself first?

I'd loved and I'd lost. I'd had a best friend and I'd had my soul and innocence taking away. I'd been controlled by a supernatural being that not even I could fight. I'd had my heart stamped on immediately. I'd even been hit by a damn bus. I'd lost myself and I'd behaved like both a god-like creature _and_ a monster. Neither state was natural or good.

But you know what?

I'd grown from it all. I'd regained my soul, I'd found freedom, and I'd learned to deal with it and make the best of it. I wasn't a victim, and when I was at war with myself, I could ride. Easy at that.

I could also accept Bella's story entirely. I'd been wrong since the beginning; her story _wasn't_ simple. No death of anybody is simple. Bella Swan had done tons of regretful things, but she hadn't been the only one to do so. Bella hadn't been an angel, but she hadn't been a monster or a god, either. She was gone, though. She wasn't coming back. I could accept that, and I could tell the entire rez that. I did, actually. I actually told everyone what happened, and that it could happen to anyone, because it was true. I knew the truth and I was able to share it with everybody. I was even a hero on the rez for a short time. Charlie finding out broke his heart (wouldn't it break anybody's?), but at least he knew.

So I'd done a couple of good things. I wasn't aiming for perfection, but I could take all the good things life had to throw at me. I still wasn't going to look for love, though… but there was no reason to not want to make friends.

Right?

That same summer, in mid-August, I got a job at a garage in Beaver. It paid sort of well, and I'd need the money if I was going to try to go to college somewhere. Yeah, you heard me. Embry had convinced me that I needed to go to college. Leah had convinced me, too, but Embry had done the tougher stuff.

Anyway, one day in that hot, sweet month, I went down to the garage like I did everyday. A girl worked there with me. She had reddish-gold hair, eyes the color of cinnamon, freckles across her nose, and one dimple when she smiled. Her name was Lizzie and she was cute as hell. One day, though, instead of working like usual, she brought in a few busted-up motorcycles. Nearly demolished. They obviously didn't work.

"What are those for, Liz?" I asked, chuckling as I got a few tools out, about to start work.

She laughed. "This may sound a little crazy," she said, her dimple prominent and adorable, "but I found these beat up, old bikes, and because I have a mechanic-type friend, I was hoping you could maybe help me fix them up?"

_Damn._

I didn't even take the time to think about it. I couldn't deny her. I mean, what could I even say? Maybe I had a thing for female friends. More specifically, maybe I had a thing for pretty, white girls who liked motorcycles.

…Don't ask me why.

* * *

_**The End**_

* * *

_**A/N: **How's that for ya? There won't be a sequel, but I promise Jake got his decent ending. Thank you all, so much._

_Until next angsty fic (oh dear, imagine when that will be),_

_Your one and only musical, lovey-dovey Twilight fan. *infinite x's and o's*_


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